


Well Met by Moonshine

by wyles77



Series: Better Angels [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15432090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyles77/pseuds/wyles77
Summary: Hannah Shepard meets the best bartender this side of the galactic core for the first time. A short interlude in the Better Angels 'verse, implied FemShep/Liara.





	1. Well Met By Moonshine

**Author's Note:**

> Of all my ME fics, I think this little oddball is just about my favourite. It started as a one-shot, a scribble in the margin for Better Angels while I was figuring out how I wanted that story to work. And it grew and grew. Still dedicated to BA Tanglepaw :)

Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard stepped into the dimly lit canteen of the medical centre. She'd heard a rumour that someone had set up a bar down here, and she needed the distraction. Her worry for her daughter was taking its toll. It had been four weeks since Rachel had been found on the Citadel, barely breathing, life hanging by the finest gossamer thread. For four interminable weeks, Hannah had come to this dilapidated wreck of a hospital every day, trying to juggle the demands of her crew, the Navy, and humanity's survivors with her overwhelming personal concern.  _My little girl._

It was a miracle that Rachel had survived the damage inflicted on her, one of the doctors, Price, had confided. Dr. Lawson, the lead medic, had initially been rather more upbeat, but in a cool, professional manner that Hannah had been unable to translate into real hope. Survived she might have, and Lawson and Price had performed wonders in stabilizing her physical injuries, but neither had been able to offer insight into the persistence of the coma that kept Rachel prisoner. Lawson had noted a considerable amount of brain-wave activity, but Hannah's daughter remained unresponsive to any stimuli, and as time passed, the pretty Australian medic's optimism had slowly withered. She had refused to meet Hannah's gaze when she'd finally admitted there was nothing more she could do. "We'll keep looking for answers, of course, Admiral, but there's no way to tell how long this will last. She might wake up in half an hour, she might not wake up at all. All we can do is keep treating her injuries and hope."

No, there was no comfort for Hannah in the doctors, so she'd taken to wandering the hospital in search of a diversion, anything to fill the gap left by her diminishing hope. And that was when she'd heard about the bar.

Now, sure enough, she'd found it. Over on the serving counter, a selection of bottles had been put on display and a motley crew of cups, glasses, mugs, and medicine beakers had been assembled. An odd enough sight in a hospital, but the surreal sense of the scene was not helped by the personage standing behind the bar, industriously polishing a glass with what appeared to be a surgical mask. Hannah was accustomed to illicit grog stills and moonshine dens from more ships and bases than she cared to remember, often a customer, sometimes the distiller, and on one or two unhappy occasions, the enforcer charged with shutting it down, but never before in her career had she encountered a bootleg bar tended by an asari. As she watched, the alien set the glass down neatly in rank with its comrades, turned to the sink, fished a new receptacle out and began the process of drying all over again. The sight was so mundane and yet so out of place that Hannah couldn't help but smile.

Intrigued, she walked across the empty canteen, combat boots squeaking on the still-polished linoleum and pulled a stool up to the counter, planting her elbows and lacing her fingers together. "Getting much business?" she enquired.

The barkeep set the glass down, rested her hands flat on the countertop and leaned in slightly with a welcoming smile. "This time of day? Nah, not a lot. When the recovery crew shifts change, I usually get a few through the door. The things they see out there - they need to take a load off, y'know?" The asari sighed expressively. "So many of them have no one else to turn to, I figure the best help I can be is to provide a listening ear." Her rich, gravelly voice was vibrant with sympathy. "What brings you here, Admiral?"

"My daughter's a patient here. She was injured in the final battle on the ground. They managed to stabilize her, but she's in a coma. Been that way for four weeks now."

At the mention of a daughter, a squall of pain flitted across the asari's features. "Sorry. That's gotta be rough. I'm sure she's a fighter though."

Hannah nodded.  _Yeah_ , she thought. If there was one word the galaxy would apply to her daughter, fighter was definitely it. The asari took the gesture for a reply and gestured to the drinks on display.

"So what'll you have, babe?"

"Christ, it's been a while since anybody called me  _babe_ ," Hannah chuckled, relaxing a little and unbuttoning her jacket collar. "What do you have?"

"Seeing as you're human, chances are I've got pretty much anything you might want. Sorry, no sex, though; I just cleaned the bar."

Hannah studied her for a moment, taking in the deep indigo skin, the midnight blue eyes, the lithe figure shown off to good advantage by the incongruous commando leathers, entertained the unlikely flight of fancy for a split second, then gave the asari's sardonic grin back with interest. "Well damn, that's me disappointed, sweetheart. Better give me a double vodka to help me get over it."

The asari laughed as she retrieved a bottle of vodka from the refrigerator behind her, a sultry, wicked laugh that matched the gleam in her eye. "Sure thing, babe." She poured a generous helping of vodka into a medicine beaker and slid it across the counter. Hannah fielded it deftly and raised it in salute, then paused as an idea struck.

"Have one with me?"

The bartender cocked her head to one side, considering, and Hannah felt as though she was suddenly back at OCS, bring assessed by the most stringent of her instructors. "Why not?" the asari agreed eventually, pouring a second shot into what looked like someone's best porcelain, and raising it. "Here's to still being here."

"Still being here," Hannah agreed, knocking half the shot back. It wasn't nearly cold enough, but the burn felt good. "So, what do I call you?"

"Name's Aethyta. Asari Matriarch and best bartender this side of the galactic core. And you are?"

"Hannah Shepard. Best battle group commander in the Fifth Fleet."

The asari's eyes narrowed slightly. "Shepard, huh? That a common human name?"

"Reasonably common, for my cultural background. Why'd you ask?"

"Might be you're the second human I've met with that name," Aethyta replied. The assessing look was back on her face, as though she was trying to make up her mind on a course of action. Hannah met the look squarely, trying to remain impassive, give nothing away.

"Yeah? Well, the odds on that are reasonable. Like I said, it's not uncommon."

The asari chuckled, tipping Hannah a wink. "Relax, babe - your secret's safe with me."

"What secret would that be?"

"That you're Commander Shepard's mother. You don't look much like her, I gotta say."

"How'd you figure, then?" Rachel looked like Danny, so much that to see her lying in that hospital bed, bandaged, burned and bruised, was a living flashback to twenty-eight years ago, watching her husband slip further and further away in spite of hope, prayer, and abject supplication.

Aethyta shrugged. "Cos I happen to know the 'Saviour of the Galaxy' is laid up in here," she replied, laying a sarcastic emphasis on a title Hannah knew Rachel would hate. "I've seen her friends lurking around; Justicar Samara is hard to miss, if you take my meaning." Aethyta pushed her hands against the sides of her breasts, emphasizing her cleavage. "Add you, with your coincidental name, your daughter laid up in a coma, and that hangdog look - I've been around, kid. I can put two and two together."

"I'm  _kid_ , now?" No one had called Hannah kid for maybe thirty years. Reflexively, she ran her hand through her brindled iron and silver hair. A kid was about the last thing she felt right now.

"Yeah. Kid," Aethyta confirmed with a smile. "It's a good bet I'm the oldest living being in this star system now that the Reapers are history. Near on a thousand."

Hannah shot the rest of her drink to cover her shock; this woman had been born roundabout the time Richard the Lionheart had been on crusade? "You don't look it," she managed to wheeze through the choking fit the vodka provoked.

"Well, ain't you sweet. Still, like I said, been around. Recognise parental concern when I see it. Same again?"

Hannah held out her glass for the matriarch to refill. "So how'd you end up in a makeshift bar in a hospital on Earth? I mean, if you're a matriarch, aren't you involved in the asari government?"

Aethyta snorted derisively. "Not on your life. Tried that once, got nowhere. My opinion wasn't needed or wanted, apparently. So I decided I'd go where I thought I could help, drifted around, saw some more of the galaxy. You stay at home for a century or so, then you head back out, it's incredible what changes. Seems like only yesterday you humans came blundering onto the scene." The matriarch grinned. "Heh, ballsy little buggers, too, picking your first interstellar smackdown with the Turians."

"That wasn't ballsy, that was just stupid," Hannah chuckled. "One of our more persistent traits." She took a small sip of her vodka. "So, you said you'd met Rachel before?"

"Who?"

"Rachel. My daughter."

"Right, right. Yeah, nice kid. Rachel, huh? I didn't know her first name; everyone on her team just calls her Shepard, even..." Aethyta paused, poured herself a second generous shot of vodka. "I met her about ten months ago, on Illium. She was recruiting Samara for her mission to take on the Collectors, working with an intel broker in Nos Astra. I was working the bar near the exchange, and she helped us sort out an awkward situation, and we got to chatting afterwards. She seemed pretty well adjusted for a Spectre - half that breed are erratic as hell, and the other half aren't much better than thugs. She stopped by a few times after that, would always take the time to shoot the breeze, have a drink with me, listen to my war stories. Like I said, nice kid."

"Glad you think so. I did raise her to mind her manners."

"She your only family?"

"Yeah. Her Dad died when she was really young. Danny and I had been talking about having another baby, but he was killed in action before we really decided." Hannah shrugged. "Aside from Danny's sister, I haven't heard about anyone. Don't expect to, either, not now." She took a reflective sip from her vodka. "I left home when I was seventeen - my parents had plans for me that they never bothered to consult me about, so I decided I was better off on my own." She chuckled softly, bitterly. "Thing is, I promised myself that if I ever had kids, I'd back them in whatever they wanted to do, but when Rach said she wanted to join the marines, I nearly broke that promise. God knows I didn't want her to be a soldier - it took me everything I had to keep my mouth shut."

"It's a real bitch, ain't it?" Aethyta agreed sympathetically. "You want to protect them, but you want them to be able to make it on their own, because some day they'll have to, and you don't do them any favours by coddling them, but it's hard to let go."

"You've had kids yourself, then?"

"Hell, yeah," Aethyta grinned. "Six of 'em."

"Six?" Hannah gaped at her. "Wow."

"Well, I'm the father for three of them, so it wasn't so bad," the asari explained with a chuckle. "Two girls with my first asari partner, one with a hanar, two with a krogan, and the last one, my baby girl, with another asari."

"Do you know where they all are now? Are they safe?"

Aethyta grimaced. "My oldest died about two centuries back, in a passenger transport crash on Thessia. That was a real shock - they're not supposed to go before you do, right? Even if they are five hundred at the time."

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. "I can't imagine how it must feel to know someone, love someone for that long and then have them torn away. It must have been difficult."

"It was. Athame's sacred ass, I was angry for what felt like forever. I met my last partner - my bondmate - a few years later, and she helped me work it out, but you never really get over it." Aethyta blew out a breath. "As for the rest of them, one's an officer on one of our warships, the Nefrane, and she's fine; I talked to her yesterday. Damn, does that ship ever have a lucky star and a lucky skipper; she was relatively undamaged in the battle."

Hannah nodded, remembering how the colossal Asari dreadnought, impeccably commanded, had wrought havoc with the Reaper fleet, resolutely defending the Crucible even though it was a magnet for the enemy forces. "Lucky and smart," she corrected. "I've rarely seen such skill in handling a cap ship in an engagement."

"Yeah, the crew of the Destiny Ascension owe the Nefrane's skipper a crate of Serrice ice brandy for pulling our asses out of the fire too," Aethyta chuckled. "Anyway, three of my girls were on Thessia; I got them out of there, but I haven't heard from them since. I hope they're OK, but I have no way to contact them for now, so I'm assuming the best." Her gaze clouded with sudden pain. "My youngest...Liara..." the asari paused for a moment after mentioning the name, as though waiting for some reaction, "...ah, she was involved with the ground assault on Earth. I know she got evacuated, but her ship is missing, and..." she knocked her shot back, "ah shit. It's wrong to have favourites, and I don't, not really, but that kid... she's really something special. And she's  _so_  young, just past her first century. But she was adamant, she wanted to help, and she was head over heels in love. And, shit, there's no talking to them when they get that way."

"I don't think that's ever happened to Rachel," Hannah reflected sadly. "She's had a couple of serious boyfriends, but she never seemed properly head over heels about any of them. Broke up with all of them in the end, usually acrimoniously. Always the same broken record, too - 'she loves the Corps more than she loves me'." Hannah chuckled. "Sad thing is, that they were all right about that." Aethyta's expression had become steadily more astonished as Hannah spoke. "What?"

"Uh...nothing. Suppose I shouldn't be surprised that a soldier like Shepard would be so focused. Did she have any fun as a kid, or was she always polishing her salute?"

The subject change was blatant, but Hannah didn't know the asari well enough to call her on it. She was definitely missing something, but she couldn't put her finger on what it might be. Shrugging mentally, she dismissed it. "Oh, she had fun. God, she could be such a brat. Loved practical jokes, too, and she usually found some enlisted crewer to indulge her in her mischief." She smiled as a memory surfaced. "This one time, she got the engineering crew to help her rig a sting for the XO, who'd chewed me out unjustly about some petty bureaucratic crap the week before, I don't even remember what any more. She was outraged, so she took vengeance on my behalf. She borrowed a tool kit and rigged the guy's cabin door to give him a small electric shock. Not every time, she was too smart for that, just every so often. The engineering ratings swore blind there was nothing wrong with the door, and it went on for about a month before our weasel of a chief engineer figured it out and called it in. The Captain laughed his ass off even as he confined her to quarters for two weeks."

Aethyta laughed, an evil smile lighting her face. "Ah, see, I knew I liked her. Glad she's not as stiff-assed as she tries to make out." She tipped her head to one side. "You know, your kid is the reason we're all still here, all still walking and talking. So I'd say you did good, and you can be damn proud of what she's achieved. And she will wake up. I've known a few Spectres over the years - never liked many of them, but the one thing all those hard-assed bastards have in common is that they just do not know when to give up and die. It's not in them to be quitters. So I figure your gal is working through some stuff in her head. She'll wake up when she's ready, you wait and see."

Tears blurred Hannah's vision as the asari's kind words slipped the catches on her fear, already loosened by the alcohol. Dashing her hand across her eyes, she knocked back the rest of her drink, the shock of the alcohol enough to override the sob rising up her throat with a fresh coughing fit. As she fought to breathe, she thought she heard the asari mutter "She'd damn well better wake up, or I'll kill her myself," before one strong blue hand caught her in a gentle hold across her chest, and another pounded on her back. Heaving up one last cough, the paroxysm subsided, and Hannah dragged in a long, shaky breath.

"You OK there, kid?" Aethyta asked, stepping back and bending slightly to peer into Hannah's eyes. "Get you some water?"

"I'll be fine," Hannah declined, getting to her feet. "I think I'm gonna go say goodnight to my girl. I'll tell her you were asking for her. And thanks so much for the drink, and the talk - I needed both."

"Anytime, babe. Don't be a stranger, OK? I'm here most days. Come on by whenever you need to."

Hannah nodded. "I'll do that, Aethyta. Thanks. See you around."

Aethyta tipped her a wink, and Hannah buttoned her jacket as she headed to the door. She was still deathly afraid for Rachel, but the asari's words had rekindled a little hope. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. Squaring her shoulders, newly resolute, Admiral Shepard returned to her post to stand the watch.


	2. Like Mother, Like Daughter

Two days after her discovery of the bootleg bar, Admiral Hannah Shepard found herself in need once more of a little friendly conversation. It had been a rough day - Rachel had arrested twice, and on both occasions the defibrillator had been required to jump-start her heart. The danger was past for the moment, but Hannah could admit to herself that she was in need of a stiff drink in addition to a sympathetic ear.

As she pushed through the swing doors, she saw she wasn't alone in seeking the barkeep's company. Another asari stood at the bar, stern visaged, pale skinned, dressed in a tight, low-cut set of red commando leathers that showcased an indisputably impressive cleavage. A golden torc adorned her neck, with a matching red and gold two-part headpiece resting across her brow. It was a style of dress Hannah hadn't seen on any other asari before, and she couldn't help but stare just a little as she approached.

Aethyta, dressed in the same ratty, scuffed commando leathers as she had been two days' previous, spotted her and grinned a welcome. "Hey, babe. What'll you have?"

"Vodka, straight up, please," Hannah replied, then she managed a reciprocal grin as a thought occurred. "Unless you haven't cleaned the bar lately, sweetheart."

"Ah, shit, sorry, babe. I'm too good a bartender to let the bar stay dirty for long," Aethyta chuckled. "Vodka straight, coming up." She gestured to her companion. "Don't know if you've met our resident law enforcement? Justicar Samara, meet Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard."

The strange asari inclined her head gracefully. "Blessings of the Goddess. Are you a relative of Commander Shepard?"

Hannah nodded; she was still reticent about admitting Rachel was here, but word had started to get around, and it seemed pointless to deny a direct question. "Yes. Rachel's my daughter." She exchanged an uncertain glance with Aethyta; she was sure she'd heard the name Samara before, but the context eluded her.

"Samara worked with Shepard junior against the Collectors," Aethyta offered, gracefully salvaging the situation as she passed Hannah her drink in a measuring beaker.

"Indeed," Samara agreed. "We corrected a monstrous injustice in destroying their base. In and of itself, that would have been enough to assure Shepard of my undying respect, but I also owe her two personal debts beyond my power to repay. And so I will remain here until my services are no longer required, one way or the other." She tilted her head as she studied Hannah, and the Admiral was struck once more with a sense of being evaluated, almost judged. She wondered idly if it was normal to feel that way whenever an asari looked at you, or if it was some special power reserved for matriarchs - no one had said anything, but there was something about Samara that suggested the wealth of wisdom and experience a matriarch should have.

"I'm glad Rachel was able to help you," Hannah offered, genuinely pleased to meet one of her daughter's acquaintances. "I appreciate your concern, and I'm sure if Rachel knew you were here, she'd be delighted." Curiosity got the better of her. "If it's not too personal, what exactly did Rach help you with?"

"Why do you ask?" Samara countered, her tone becoming cold.

Hannah spread her hands in an appeasing gesture as the intimidating alien frowned; Samara was certainly much closer to what Hannah imagined an asari matriarch would be like than Aethyta was, and the admiral was already in no doubt as to which of the two she preferred the company of. Aethyta had plenty of wisdom, it was just... better camouflaged. "It's only that, well, I never heard much about what she was doing after she was brought back..." The very idea of that resurrection was still almost wholly unbelievable, almost a year later. Hannah had overheard Dr. Lawson talking to Dr. Price yesterday about the complexity of the cybernetics that governed Rachel's body, and she was amazed that someone else - someone like Cerberus - should have placed such enormous value on her daughter's life. "I'd like to know more. She almost died this afternoon, and I would never have got the chance to find out..." Abruptly, a memory shouldered its way to the front of Hannah's consciousness, derailing her train of thought.

_"I know how classified TDY works, Rachel, but really, letting everyone think you were dead..."_

_"I was."_

_"...to the point that we had a funeral for you? Don't you realise just how much that hurt me, hurt everyone? For God's sake, I buried you! We had a goddamn wake! I_ really _thought you were gone!" Hannah was shouting at the screen, unable to stop herself, control her grief and anger, tears running down her face.  
"I know that, Mom, but you're not..." Rachel's voice cracked, "...you're not listening to me. I'm trying to tell you I _ did _die."_

_"Can't you drop the cover for two minutes? Not even with me?" Hannah demanded angrily, hurt by the lack of trust, a breach between them that had never been there before._

_"It wasn't a cover! Jesus Christ, Mom, I..." Tears were streaming down Rachel's cheeks now as well. "When have I ever lied to you about_ anything _?"_

_The pain in Rachel's voice cut through Hannah's building rage. She took a deep breath as she considered the question. "Never. Well, not about anything that was important."_

_"So why the fuck would I have started now?"_

_"Watch your mouth, young lady." The reprimand was reflexive, spilling out of her mouth without thought, but somehow, the mundane normality of the scolding snuffed out the spark of the argument, and after a moment Rachel coughed out a teary laugh._

_"Really, Mom?" Her daughter wiped her face with her sleeve, breathing deeply trying to recover some poise. "God's honest truth," she swore quietly. "I was killed in the attack on the Normandy. I was trying to evacuate my pilot when an explosion knocked me loose from the bridge and spaced me. My oxygen line fractured, and I... I suffocated inside my hardsuit. I died. For real."_

_Hannah stared at her, brain short-circuiting as she tried to understand. There's nothing but agonised truth in Rachel's face and voice. "But how..."_

_Rachel sighed heavily. "Cerberus brought me back. It's a long story, and I don't... shit, I don't have a lot of time. Not enough time to tell it properly - I'm on my way back to Earth, per Hackett's orders, to surrender myself for court martial." She fidgeted nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck. "I don't know what's going to happen me, but this time,_ before _it does, I wanted to call you. Hell, forget calling, I wanted to_ see _you, so much... I was really looking forward to that... but time's run out on me. Again." She looked up at the ceiling, lip trembling, and Hannah suddenly saw the tiredness and the grief in the drawn lines of her daughter's face. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen, for it to get so badly fucked up. I never meant to hurt you. I'm trying my best to do the right thing, be who you taught me to be. Anderson knows the truth, so does Hackett. If I can't get in touch with you, ask them. They'll tell you what's been going on, what we're up against. And one day soon, when I see you, I will tell you_ everything _. I love you, Mom."_

Hannah had already lost her daughter once and learned the truth of that loss much later. Now, as she faced losing her again, she was beginning to realise how little she knew of the last year of her daughter's life. Even Aethyta, a passing acquaintance, seemed to know more than she did. And this justicar had travelled with her, worked with her, she would know so much...

Gritting her teeth, she knocked back her shot to cauterise the tears that brimmed in her vision. "Please," she begged softly. "Anything you can tell me about my little girl would be appreciated."

Samara thought for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," she relented. "Shepard assisted me in the killing one of my daughters, and helped me save another's life."

Hannah blinks at her, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.  _Not_  what she was expecting to hear. "Excuse me?"

Samara's stern expression remained impassive. "What do you know of Ardat-Yakshi, Admiral Shepard?"

Aethyta whistled softly, sympathy etching into her features, and Hannah inferred that whatever Samara has just alluded to was not pleasant. "Nothing," she admitted. "Why?"

"Ardat-Yakshi are asari afflicted with a rare genetic condition that inflicts death upon a partner when they meld. All three of my daughters were born with it. It is a terrible curse."

"There's no cure?" Hannah asked, though she suspected not from the fact that such unfortunates were given a special name.

"No," Samara confirmed coldly. "Once the condition manifests at around the age of forty, the afflicted are offered a choice. They may choose to enter a monastery for the remainder of their lives, or they may choose death."

"That seems harsh," Hannah observed, surprised by the notion that a race like the asari would not countenance some sort of rehab program, some way to manage the condition. The choices of seclusion or death seemed downright mediaeval.

"Yeah, it seems it," Aethyta agreed, "but it's for their own protection as much as anyone else's. See, babe, melding's a pretty awesome experience. Imagine kissing a lover, and then compare it to the best orgasm you've ever had. That's the difference between physical union and mental union for an asari. It's not to say we don't enjoy a good kiss, it's certainly not to say that sex isn't intensely pleasurable on its own merits," Aethyta paused to leer wickedly at Hannah, no doubt enjoying making the human blush, "it  _definitely_  is, but a meld, even on its own, is a whole different level, and if you combine the two... Athame's sacred tits, I need a cold shower just thinking about it." The bartender flushed slightly as Samara glowered at her. "Yeah... so... anyway, an Ardat-Yakshi's kind of like a sex addict. Once they start melding, they get hooked, and the compulsion to meld grows stronger with every mating. And since they leave the poor bastard they meld with dead, that means they become addicted to killing. They can't stop themselves, and then they don't want to stop, and since they get smarter and stronger every time they mate, the longer they run for, the harder they are to bring down."

Hannah shivered. "Sounds a bit like a vampire," she remarked. At the questioning glances of the two asari, she clarified, "Human mythological creatures that fed on the blood of humans, and were functionally immortal with supernatural powers - flight, shape change, invulnerability. They supposedly could only be killed by beheading, a stake through the heart, or exposure to sunlight, and the longer they lived, the more their powers grew. They're fictional, though. Monsters under the bed."

"Ardat-Yakshi are no mere figment of the imagination, Admiral," Samara said sternly. "And even though the one who runs never starts out as a monster, the tragedy is that she is fated to become one, regardless of her initial motivations. When they accept seclusion, there is no chance for them to know the pleasures of the body and mind, but they can still live a relatively normal life." She closed her eyes for a moment, and a squall of pain flitted across her harsh features. "My eldest, Mirala, chose to run. She was the bravest and smartest of my daughters, a free spirit with a reckless sense of adventure, so very much like I was in my distant youth. She could not, would not accept a cage, so she ran. And once Falere, my youngest, joined her sister Rila in seclusion, I was free to follow Mirala, or Morinth, as she had chosen to call herself. I ended my relationship with my bondmate, forsook all worldly possessions, left behind everything I knew and loved, to become a justicar. It was my penance for my daughter's sins, for the lives she took, and for those she left bereft, a quest for absolution and justice that took four hundred years." The justicar stared intently into Hannah's eyes. "Your daughter helped me attain that absolution."

"How?" Hannah breathed, captivated.  _This kind of shit just doesn't happen in real life_ , a little voice whispered in her mind, but it was an easily silenced critic; the pain in the cold asari's eyes and the pity in Aethyta's give weight to the truth.

"She came to Ilium looking to recruit me for her mission against the Collectors. A noble cause, worthy of one of my order, but I had only recently reacquired Morinth's trail, and I was loath to let her slip away. However, the authorities in Nos Astra wished to restrain me, fearing I might cause a diplomatic incident."

Hannah looked to Aethyta in confusion, and the darker-skinned matriarch nodded. "Samara's a Justicar, sworn to uphold the laws of the Republics without fear or favour. She serves as judge, jury, and executioner, adhering to the principles of the Justicar Code to determine innocence, guilt, and right action. If she were to witness, say, a red sand smuggling transaction, she would be compelled to execute the smugglers. Asari accept that, but the code of the justicars is not recognised as a legitimate law enforcement tool by the other races. And since Nos Astra is not exactly the most clean-living metropolis in the galaxy, doing business as it does with the Terminus systems, well... there would have been plenty of opportunities for Samara to blow the head off a turian or a salarian in full public view and cause a major diplomatic clusterfuck."

"Colourfully put," Samara remarked dryly, "but accurate. Commander Shepard offered to assist me, recognising a mutual benefit to co-operation. She had tracked Morinth to a ship which had departed to Omega. If I were to accompany her, she would help me confront Morinth if I would then help her against the Collectors. I agreed. We stayed on Ilium a few days longer, to recruit the assassin Thane Krios, and then we travelled to Omega." The justicar looked over at the bartender. "May I trouble you for a drink of water, Aethyta?"

"You sure you don't want something stronger?"

"I do not drink alcohol."

Aethyta shrugged as she poured water carefully from the cracked enamel jug on the counter into an ornamental beer stein. "More for the rest of us, then. Hannah, babe, same again?"

Hannah shook her head. "You got whiskey there, bourbon maybe? Something to sip rather than shoot?"

"You got it."

Samara waited until Hannah had her drink, then continued her account. "I had the privilege to witness your daughter's prowess on the battlefield on many occasions. She is a gifted warrior and an exemplary leader, but more than any of our missions, our work on Omega proved to me that I had not erred in offering my services to her. Morinth had already claimed one victim, a young human girl, an artist. Her mother was distraught, and I had no words of sympathy to offer. How could I, knowing that my own child had caused such anguish? Shepard calmed the woman, with kind words and a compassion that touched my soul. And then she agreed to bait a trap for Morinth. She walked into that nightclub alone, and walked out of it with my daughter, unarmed, unarmoured, defenceless except for the strength of her will, and fully aware that it might not be enough. She placed her life completely in my hands. Rarely in my nine centuries of life have I witnessed such selfless bravery." Samara shook her head and sighed. "I followed them to Morinth's lair. Shepard was not able to totally withstand my daughter's powers, but I got there before she could meld, and then I... I put an end to her killings, once and for all."

Silence fell, and Hannah studied the surface of her drink intently as she tried to put herself in Samara's position. It was impossible, too hurtful to even begin to comprehend. "I'm sorry," she offered inadequately after a long moment of introspective quiet. "I mean, I know how it feels to lose a daughter - I lost Rachel three years ago - but have no idea how painful that must have been for you."

Samara smiled faintly. "I see where Commander Shepard obtained her compassion and forthright speech," she replied. "You are kind, but I need no pity. I was distraught at the time, but I have come to terms with it. My daughter is at peace." She looked away for a moment then spoke again in a far unsteadier tone. "Two of my daughters. Rila died during the war."

Hannah flicked a glance at Aethyta, whose face bore pure, unguarded pity for the proud, aloof warrior in the red armour. "They rest with the Goddess, in peace and joy unending," the barkeep offered solemnly.

"Thank you," Samara said softly. "That night brought an end to my quest. I was free to pursue other agendas. I had already sworn the Third Oath of Subsumation to Shepard, so I joined her crew formally."

"Fuck me," Aethyta breathed. "You swore unconditional loyalty to an  _alien_?" She gave Hannah a sidelong glance. "No offence, kid, but in all my life I've never heard of  _that_  happening."

"It was necessary," Samara shrugged. "When I agreed to our bargain, I did not know the Commander, did not know her morals, her purpose. Spectres are seldom appointed for their respect for the law, and past experience taught me to be cautious in dealing with any who carry the shield of a Spectre's powers. Such freedom to act without penalty often breeds evil. But our goals were too important to risk a conflict between the Code and Shepard's orders. By swearing to obey, I was free to act unreservedly on Shepard's behalf, even if her orders had proved unlawful or unjust."

"And what if they had been?" Hannah asked, fascinated by this insight into asari culture.

"Then, when my vow was released, I would be compelled to follow the Code and dispense justice." Samara met Hannah's gaze. "I have not yet unbound that oath."

Chill fingers of fear traced down Hannah's spine. Rachel was helpless to defend herself; if in her Spectre work she had violated some statute of asari law in the eyes of this woman, there was little anyone at the hospital could offer by way of protection. "Why not?" she forced herself to ask, and Samara smiled suddenly, transforming her severity into a serene beauty.

"You need have no fear for your daughter, Hannah Shepard. She is an honest and upright soul, and I am proud to call her my friend. Some of her associates, however, have... less rigorous scruples, pasts tainted with evildoing that I would be compelled to act upon. For the friendship I bear her, and the debts I owe, my oath to Shepard will remain in force for as long as I live."

"Oh yeah?" Aethyta reached for a fresh glass and began polishing it vigorously. "Who on Shepard's crew would be on your shit list, then?"

"The thief, Kasumi Goto. The convict, Jack, and the assassin Thane Krios, although he is already in the embrace of the Goddess." Samara frowned. "Why would you ask?"

"Just curious," Aethyta shrugged, the pace of her rubbing at the marks on the glass easing off. "Seems to me that Shepard's crew are all pretty much big damn heroes these days. I guess it'd look kinda bad if you were to start slaughtering them for unpaid parking fines."

"Politics are not my concern," Samara retorted. "But I would rather not be placed in a position of being forced to choose my duty over my friendship." She sighed pensively. "As far as I can determine, I am the last living Justicar. When I die, our way of life will be gone, and while the code defines who I am, I am learning, perhaps far too late, that there are spaces where the code has nothing to say that are open to interpretation." Her smile returned. "Again, Admiral, I have your daughter to thank for that. She helped me to save my youngest girl, Falere, from the Reapers. We could not save Rila, but I still have a family thanks to Commander Shepard." Samara stepped forward and gave a little bow, hands crossed on her chest. "My thanks to you, Hannah Shepard, for the gift of your daughter, my dear friend, to this galaxy. As a mother, I feel your pain. Know that I will do anything in my power to assist with Shepard's recovery. I pray for her in each quiet moment I have, but I know that she is strong, and brave, and she has much to live for. I know in my heart she will return to us."

"Thank you, Samara, I..." Words failed Hannah as her emotions roiled. "I... I had no idea about any of this."  _No idea that my kid had earned the respect and total loyalty of a nine-hundred-year-old asari version of Judge Dredd_. Pride swelled in her chest at the thought. If someone like Samara could respect Rachel, then damn if her kid wasn't good at what she did.  _Not bad for a puny human, huh?_

"It's the fate of a parent to never have much handle on what your kids are up to once they step outside your front door," Aethyta commiserated wryly. "You have to trust they're doing all right, but it feels pretty good when you get some validation, huh?"

"Yeah," Hannah agreed. "I'm proud of her, I always have been, but it means a lot to me just to know. So much of her work is classified, and we've had so little time together since she came back. I've missed out on a lot."

"Well, I'm sure there are other people around who know her," Aethyta noted. "Talk to them. Find out more. Then, when she gets around to waking up you'll have plenty of ammunition for a proper scolding."

"How d'you figure that?"

"Well, just with this story you've got her going home with strange girls without even thinking about protection. I mean, Athame's sweet and sacred ass, didn't she listen to you when you gave her 'the talk'?"

Hannah burst out laughing, and raised her cup to tap it against Aethyta's. "I like your thinking, Aethyta."

"Course you do," the barkeep grinned.

Samara smiled tolerantly, then drained her drink. "I must go. I have duties to attend to with the rescue crews." She inclined her head politely to Hannah. "Admiral. We will meet again. Aethyta."

"Justicar," Aethyta returned, equally politely, but as soon as Samara had gone, she beckoned Hannah closer to the bar. "Damn if she ain't stiff-assed."

"She seems very harsh," Hannah remarked. "I think it would be difficult to get to know her."

"Most justicars are like that. Samara's actually one of the more open-minded ones I've met. Hardly any of them interact with the other races, so they never get into situations where their code can be questioned. If she's making compromises like that oath, then she's learned some pretty painful lessons."

"I think that's something we all share in this time, this place," Hannah reflected, taking a swallow from her drink.

"Ain't that the truth."

"Any word on your daughters yet?"

"No." Aethyta sighed. "I spoke to my girl on the Nefrane again, she hasn't heard anything either. All I can do now is wait."

Hannah grimaced. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Nah, don't worry about it, kid. You asked out of concern, and that's appreciated." Aethyta lifts her glass once more. "Anyway, here's to still being here."

"Still being here." Hannah echoed the toast, reflecting that in some ways, she was luckier than Aethyta. Critically injured Rachel might be, but she was here, where Hannah could see her and hold her. She knew what was happening. Aethyta had no such luxury. "Listen, I appreciate the support, and... well, you know if you ever need the same..."

Aethyta smiled. "I know, babe. Don't worry, if I need to talk, I'll find you. Now, go home and get some sleep. You look like shit."

Hannah chuckled as she set her teacup down on the bar. "Aye aye, ma'am. See you around?"

"Count on it."


	3. Of Biotics and Battlemasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because there aren't enough drunken krogan in our lives...

The commotion emanating from the rec room could be heard all the way down the corridor.

Hannah smiled to herself as she heard Aethyta's distinctly dirty laugh float above the hubbub. Evidently, the matriarch was doing some entertaining. In the week or so since she'd discovered the bar, discovered she had someone to talk to who wasn't a constant reminder of potential mortality, Hannah had found that she was able to smile more easily, able to hope a fraction more. The gravity of Rachel's condition was no less, the fear that weighed on Hannah's heart and bowed her shoulders was no lighter, but the asari's open, generous friendship had permitted her a few moments of relief, a safe haven in which to rally herself against the ravages of her cares. After a busy day of duty shifts aboard the Orizaba, she figured she'd stop in and say hi before heading up to Rachel's room.

Stepping automatically over the pile of rubble from a collapsed wall that no one had yet had the chance or the will to clear, Hannah pushed through the swing doors to the rec room to be met with the sight of two krogan standing at the bar, listening raptly as Aethyta regaled them with some almost-certainly exaggerated story. It was absolutely the last thing Hannah had expected to see, and she stopped just inside the doors, transfixed by the scene. In her many years of service to the Alliance, a Navy officer who'd spent most of her career on the CICs of various starships, she'd met her fair share of turians and batarians (the former mostly advisers and liaisons, the latter almost always captured pirates), and even the odd asari and salarian here and there on her rare trips to the Citadel, but she'd never actually met a krogan, or even got close to one. Ten feet from two of them, she had to admit, their presence was overwhelming. They seemed too large for the room, out of proportion to her expectations as well as their surroundings.

Aethyta didn't seem to be having any such issue, however, gesturing animatedly as she told her tale. "...So he says to me, 'What does an asari know of the krogan?' and I said 'This' and kicked him right in the quad." The asari laughed wickedly. "Surprised the fuck out of him. He staggered back three paces and tripped over his own feet. Fell right on his ass in front of all of his little Blood Pack friends, and discharged his shotgun in the process, kneecapping one of his  _krannt_."

The bigger of the two krogan, a scarred, heavily-armoured hulk with a broken red crest and keenly intelligent eyes, slapped his knee as he roared with laughter."Ha! Damn, I wish I'd been there."

Aethyta favoured him with a toothy grin. "Yeah. Even if I do say so myself, that was pretty awesome. I reckon he'd have walked with a hitch for two days at least. Anyway, that was the first and only time that the mighty Ganar Wrang, Battlemaster of the Blood Pack, ever tried to strongarm the asari consul for protection money while  _I_  commanded the security detail."

"I crossed paths - and blades - with Wrang a few times over the centuries," the krogan replied. "He was everything a rival should be; a strong warrior, cunning, respected, accustomed to victory. Honourable, too, in his own way. To use a phrase of Shepard's, he was a magnificent bastard."

"I heard tell she called you that a time or two," Aethyta noted.

"Yeah." The krogan chuckled happily. "That's how I knew she really liked me."

"Hey, Hannah! Come to join the party, babe?" Aethyta had spotted her, and waved her over. "I want you to meet my two friends here. This is Wrex," she pointed to the larger krogan, "and this baby-faced fella here," her finger shifted to indicate the slightly smaller alien, who bore no scars, no crest, and had large, pale blue eyes, "is Grunt. They're two of Commander Shepard's best buddies. Or at least, they'd like you to believe that."

"It's true," Wrex confirmed. "There's only one person in the galaxy Shepard likes more than me."

"Yeah. Me," Grunt declared impudently. At Wrex's look of sudden outrage, he barked a laugh. "Truth hurts, does it, clan leader?"

Wrex turned to Aethyta with an aggrieved expression. "You see what I have to put up with? The infant has no respect. I blame Shepard for his attitude. She didn't housebreak him properly."

"I didn't need housebreaking. I needed to be unleashed upon our enemies. To fall upon them like..." Grunt puffed himself up, waving the measuring jug he was drinking from, "a terrible, unleashed... _thing_."

Wrex favoured his companion with a disdainful look, then turned his attention to Hannah. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, human," he declaimed expansively. "I am Urdnot Wrex, Chief of Clan Urdnot, Slayer of Reapers, and, most importantly, battle brother to Commander Shepard, whose name is known to all krogan." He fetched his companion a clout to the shoulder. "Introduce yourself, pup. Politely."

The younger krogan drew himself up, thumping his armoured chest with his fist. "I am Urdnot Grunt, Captain of Clan Urdnot, Commander of Aralakh Company. I am the perfect krogan warrior, and  _krannt_  to Commander Shepard, whose name is known to all krogan."

More than a little nonplussed, Hannah nodded to them. Not only had she not been expecting to see krogan in the bar, she'd  _definitely_  not expected one of those krogan to be the unofficial leader of his people, and one of Rachel's most famous allies. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Admiral Hannah Shepard, Battle Group Commander, Fifth Fleet, Alliance Navy." At Aethyta's encouraging nod, she added, "Uh, mother to Commander Shepard, whose... name is known to all krogan?"

"Well said!" Wrex boomed, clapping her heartily on the back and staggering her forward so far she almost hit the bar. Grunt looked her up and down, an incredulous expression slowly seeping onto his face.

" _You're_... Shepard's mother?" he asked dubiously.

Hannah nodded crisply, a little offended by the inference that she might not be, but then a memory of Rachel talking about working with krogan presented itself.  _It's easy enough, once you know the trick. The blunter you are with them, the better. Call a spade a spade, bang your chest a bit, and never, ever back down when they try to intimidate you, and you get on just fine_. "Damn right," she retorted, drawing herself up to her full height, which had never felt more inadequate. "You calling me a liar, son?"

Grunt blinked at her. "No," he said after a moment, his tone confused, "but... you're so small."

"Big enough to boss Commander Shepard around," Hannah asserted confidently, folding her arms across her chest and cocking her hip.

"I'll just bet you are," Wrex interjected with a grin. "Ancestor's bones, you sure do sound like her. Cocky as hell, even though you're the smallest person in the room. Come, Admiral. Drink with us." He thrust his empty beer stein at Aethyta. "You got any more of that stuff? It isn't half bad."

"Yeah. Hannah, help yourself, kid." Aethyta turned to the store cupboard behind her and fished out an opaque plastic bottle of purple liquid. Hannah did a double-take as she reached for the bourbon.

"Is that  _rubbing alcohol_?"

"Yep," Aethyta agreed.

"You know you're not supposed to drink that, right?"

"Ah, puny human nonsense," Wrex rumbled dismissively. "It's good stuff. Kicks like ryncol."

"If you say so. I'll stick with the bourbon, if it's all the same to you." Hannah poured herself a drink, and topped up Aethyta's glass at the asari's nod. Grunt accepted a refill, and then Wrex lifted the beer stein high.

"So. A toast. Here's to us, who's like us?"

Grunt crashed his measuring jug against his clan chief's tankard. "Damn few..."

"And they're all dead," the group chorused.

"I didn't realise that one had got out of the Marine Corps," Hannah noted after they'd drunk.

"Got Shepard to thank for that," Wrex chuckled. "She thought it was appropriately krogan in sentiment. I concur." He grinned. "Ah, that was a good night, down in Chora's Den just after the Battle of the Citadel. Me, Shepard, and Vakarian, drunk as warlords on ryncol and victory. Well, I was drinking ryncol. I don't remember what Bird Brain was drinking, and Shepard was drinking something called a slammer. I don't know what it was, but it sounded good."

Grunt took another deep draught, then abruptly thumped his tankard down on the counter. "It's  _unacceptable_  that my battlemaster can't join us."

Hannah shot the two krogan a confused glance. "Wait. You mean Wrex... isn't your battlemaster?"

"Hah! This old, broken down fossil? Please. He couldn't defeat a glass of warm milk."

"What'd you call me, whelp?" Wrex growled, rising to his feet.

Grunt grinned sharkishly, squaring up to his comrade. "Deaf too, huh, old man?"

"Hey! Don't start, you two!" Aethyta snarled in turn as Wrex smacked his fist into his opposite palm, bouncing on his toes. "You so much as break a glass in here I'll pitch your asses out in the rubble, am I clear?"

Grunt turned to confront her. "You and whose army, asari?" he retorted, bunching his muscles threateningly. Aethyta rolled her eyes, walked calmly round the bar, pulled back her fist and threw an uppercut to the krogan's jaw.

An uppercut reinforced with the blue glow of biotics.

Grunt flew backward, landing on top of one of the tables and crashing through the flimsy furniture to sprawl on the floor in a spray of reconstituted wood chips.

Wrex roared with laughter, bumping fists with Aethyta appreciatively as she returned to her spot behind the counter. "Oh, the innocence of the very young," he gloated. "Never forget, pyjak, that the older someone is, the dirtier they fight." He shook his head. "And never, ever, for the love of all the ancestors, pick a fight with an asari commando."

"Damn straight," Aethyta agreed serenely. Grunt picked himself out of the wreckage, grinning hugely as he walked back over to them, careless of the crunch of splinters beneath his boots.

"I like you, old woman," he rumbled, retrieving his drink.

"Watch your lip, kid, or I'll paddle your punk ass and put you to bed," Aethyta threatened. "I believe Admiral Shepard asked you a question."

"Shepard is my battlemaster," Grunt declared proudly. "Under her command I became a man. Under her command I became a warrior. She gave me my life, she gave me purpose, she gave me strong enemies to fight and kill. She made me a conqueror, victorious over thresher maws, Collectors, Rachni, and Reapers." He took another deep quaff from his tankard. "Shepard is my battlemaster, and she has no equal in this galaxy. No one can stand against her. Many have tried." He pointed out of the window to the hulking Reaper carcass that dominated the skyline. "They're dead now." He shook his head and growled, a deep, rumbling, primeval threat that made the hairs on Hannah's neck stand on end. "It's not right that she can't drink with us!"

"She will, soon enough," Wrex shrugged. "She's not going to die - she's too damn stubborn. And besides, killing Shepard doesn't stop her. It just pisses her off. She'll wake up, and she'll be itching for a good fight, just business as usual." The old krogan sighed happily. "Ancestors, you should have been with us on Tuchanka, boy."

"I would have been, if you hadn't sent me to fight the Rachni."

"Bakara and I were leading Kalros round by the nose, and..."

"Kalros?" Hannah enquired.

"Yeah. The mother of all thresher maws. We needed to get the Reaper away from the Shroud - it was the only way to get Mordin inside so he could distribute the cure. He was a brave little pyjak, no question. So we decided to get Kalros to give us a hand." Wrex took a draught from his drink. "See, the salarians had built the Shroud near an arena of worship for Kalros, complete with a couple of maw hammers, to protect it from nosey krogan. If the locals got too uppity, they could summon Kalros to scare them away."

"Devious little bastards," Aethyta remarked. "I never liked the way the salarians conducted their wars. The casualties for always seemed to work out far higher than if they'd just gone at it toe to toe."

"Yeah," Wrex rumbled. "It's a good thing Shepard wouldn't play ball with them, though - chances are we wouldn't be having this conversation if she hadn't. That prissy little bitch Dalatrass Linron tried to sabotage our plans by blackmailing Shepard. Wanted Shepard to let us think the genophage had been cured. Offered the whole Salarian research setup and all their fleets for the war effort if she'd just stop Mordin from fixing the Shroud."

Grunt snorted derisively. "Didn't know Shepard very well, did she?"

"No," Wrex grinned. "Trying to get Shepard to do something dishonourable? You'd have better luck convincing the Blood Pack to give all their red sand profits to charity."

Fierce pride burned through Hannah at the krogan's words, and she smiled as she saw Aethyta watching her. The asari simply nodded sagely.

"What's the Shroud?" Hannah asked, wanting to hear more.

"It's the tower from which the turians spread the genophage," Wrex replied, "the source of both our oppression and our salvation." He coughs, looking slightly abashed. "So, yeah, anyway, the enemy of my enemy being my surprise superweapon, we decided to try and encourage Kalros to attack the Reaper. I kept her occupied by letting her chase me round the wastes in a tomkah, while Shepard, T'Soni and Vakarian attempted to set the hammers off. Once Kalros heard them, she'd be drawn to the arena, and she'd attack anything close to it." He grinned broadly. "I'm driving around like a lunatic with the maw hot on my tail, trying not to get eaten, and things are getting a little hairy, and the next thing I see as I'm driving by is Shepard,  _on her own,_  charging down the avenue straight toward the damn Reaper, with five or six of those Brute things in the way. She'd told Bird Brain and Pretty Blue to keep her covered while she set the hammers off, trying to protect them, I guess. So I figured she could do with some positive reinforcement, and I told her she needed to get her ass moving."

Grunt barked a laugh. "How did she take that?"

"Would you believe she whined and made excuses?"

"No. I wouldn't."

"I wouldn't either," Hannah asserted, mildly affronted on Rachel's behalf.

"It's true. I told her to get the second hammer going, and she comes back to me with," the krogan affected a high-pitched voice, 'There's a  _Reaper_  in my way, Wrex'." He snorted. "Hah, like I couldn't see that. I told her she got to have all the fun," he paused for dramatic effect, "and she told me to go fuck myself sideways."

Grunt choked on his drink, spraying the purple liquid everywhere as he tried to swallow, swear and snort at the same time. Wrex pounded his back, laughing uproariously, and Aethyta doubled up over the bar, helpless with mirth. The merriment was infectious, and Hannah found herself laughing along, perfectly able to imagine her daughter's precise inflection of the phrase, and the tone of voice she used when monumentally frustrated.

"Damn, but I love that girl," Wrex grinned. "She understands what it is to be krogan. So that was pretty much that. Shepard got the hammer going, Kalros came to defend what was hers, and the Reaper died in the sands of Tuchanka, crushed by several hundred tons of angry thresher maw. Kalros is ugly when she's angry. Mordin set up the cure, and poof! No more genophage." The krogan sobered for a moment. "I liked to rag on him, but that salarian had a bigger quad than almost anyone else I know. He was a good man, and Shepard was devastated at losing him. He owned his mistakes, he rectified them, and I'll miss him."

"To Mordin," Grunt proposed, lifting his drink high.

"To Mordin," the others chorused solemnly.

"And to Shepard," Grunt continued, his voice slightly unsteady. " _Korbal_!"

" _Korbal_!" Wrex and Aethyta echoed.

At Hannah's confused look, the asari clarified, "It's a krogan toast. Means victory or death - roughly."

"Is there anything you  _don't_  know, Aethyta?" Hannah asked with a resigned chuckle.

"Plenty. Thousand years old and I don't know shit, but my Dad was a krogan, so I got a head start on that one."

"You hear me, Shepard?" Grunt had continued his conversation behind them, staring up at the ceiling. "Victory  _or_  death. 'Or'. Not 'and'. Hear me? We won, so you don't... you don't get to die. You're invincible, remember? Squishy, but invincible. And you... you cheat."

Hannah leaned toward Wrex. "Is he...drunk?"

"Yep," Wrex adjudged. "Baby pyjak can't hold his liquor worth a damn." He sighed. "Guess I'll need to take him to get some food, sober him up."

"Noodles!" Grunt bellowed happily. "I like noodles. Not too spicy, though. Heh, did Shepard tell you about the noodles on the Citadel?"

"No noodles for you today, pup. Go wait in the hall." Wrex gave him a shove to get him moving, and the younger krogan ambled off. The Urdnot clan chief turned to Hannah. "We're shipping out tomorrow, catching a ride with some turians. We came to tell Shepard we expect to see her on Tuchanka soon - there's a whole generation of young getting named after her, and she should get to know them. She's my sister, so my family - all of it - is her family now too." He grinned. "Will you pass on a message for me?"

"Of course."

"When she wakes up, you tell her Uncle Urdnot still wants to play. She'll know what it means."

"I will," Hannah agreed warmly. "Thank you, Wrex. It was good to finally meet you - Rachel's told me all about you, and I know she's very fond of you."

Wrex chuckled. "Who isn't?" He looked over at Aethyta. "See you around, Blue?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go hurt something," Aethyta laughed as she raised a hand in farewell. Wrex collected Grunt, and the two krogan disappeared through the doors, leaving a spacious silence in their wake.

"Well," Hannah said after a moment, "that was an experience. They certainly seemed to think a lot of Rachel."

"Krogan respect strength, honour, loyalty, and prowess in combat. Your kid, from what I've heard, has all those things in spades. So it seems a pretty clear correlation to me." Aethyta smiled gently. "You heading up now?"

"Yeah. You'll be here later?"

"Sure. I gotta clean the bar." Aethyta winked, and Hannah laughed as she headed for the door. She had a lot to tell her daughter. It had been a good day.


	4. Last Orders

"Admiral?"

A gentle hand shook Hannah's shoulder, rousing her from a light doze. Blinking, she opened her eyes to be greeted with the depressingly familiar surroundings of her daughter's hospital room. Instinctively, her eyes sought out Rachel, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the quiet form on the bed whose chest rose and fell regularly, the rhythmic beeping of the cardiac monitor, the slack but warm fingers she held in a gentle grip.  _She's still alive, it's OK._

"Admiral?" Hannah turned her head, and saw Dr. Lawson standing just behind her.

"Oh, Major Lawson. Good evening."

The pretty, dark-haired medic nodded a greeting as she took a step forward. "Good evening, ma'am. Sorry to disturb you, but that's the third time you've nodded off in the past hour. Maybe you should think about getting some proper sleep?"

Mere mention of the word precipitated a jaw-cracking yawn, and Hannah smiled ruefully as she met the doctor's knowing gaze. "Betrayed by my own body."

"Well, you've had a long day."

"Sitting on my ass doing nothing," Hannah countered moodily. She'd been off duty today, with nothing to do except sit about. She'd filled Rachel in on recent happenings on Earth, the Citadel and with the fleet, reminisced about some of the vacations they'd shared, even gone through the rather short list of Rachel's old boyfriends, beginning all the way back at Jimmy Chang in the tenth grade, detailing what she'd liked and disliked about each of them. That hadn't taken long, and had left her with a much longer list of cons than pros; proof, she supposed, that Rachel had been correct in her assessment that Mr. Right had so far not shown his face.

Lawson shrugged, a concise yet expressive twitch of her shoulders. "Stress is tiring, even if there's no physical activity associated," she pointed out. "You may have been sitting down, ma'am, but you've been anything but relaxed."

"You weren't here for most of the day, Major, so how would you know?" Hannah retorted, but without heat. She knew Lawson was only trying to help, but career-spanning exposure to the tactics of chief medical officers had long since blunted the effectiveness of that kind of approach, especially now that Hannah had attained flag rank.

The Australian medic smiled slightly, the expression tugging at the raking scar that ran from the bridge of her nose across her left cheek to her jaw. "Lieutenant Price is a snitch, ma'am."

Hannah chuckled. "I thought he looked the type." She nodded towards Rachel. "How's she doing today?"

Lawson's smile faded. "No change, I'm afraid. Her vital signs are all stable, and her brain wave patterns continue to show a promising level of activity. Her cybernetic systems seem to be about seventy-five percent functional; I'm making some progress with back-translating the programming coded into the nanites in her bloodstream."

"What good will that do?"

Lawson didn't reply immediately. She snapped on a pair of disposable gloves as she moved to Rachel's bedside, drew back the covers, and pulled Rachel's hospital gown up to expose her abdomen and lower ribcage. Deftly, she peeled back the tape holding one of the wound dressings in place and removed the sterile pad. "Look here, ma'am," she instructed softly, and Hannah drew closer, wincing at the sight of the deep pink, puckered puncture scar. "This wound goes right through to the Commander's back. When she was admitted there was a hole punched right through her kidney. On the surface, it still looks quite bad, although it's healing well. But the organ damage beneath is already completely repaired, more thoroughly than even surgery could have achieved, and without any complications." Lawson checked the surface of the wound with gentle fingers. "Getting those cybernetics going again, getting the benefits of that accelerated healing profile, is likely the only thing that's kept the Commander alive," she continued. "Seventy-five percent effectiveness is good, but I'd be happier with over ninety percent. It should be a simple question of perseverance on my part, really, and it'll mean any remaining physical issues will be resolved that bit more easily." Turning to the cart at Rachel's bedside, Lawson fished out a fresh dressing and quickly applied it to the wound, sealing it off with fresh tape. Then, almost tenderly, she smoothed Rachel's gown down and replaced the bedclothes. "Stay with us, Commander," she murmured.

Touched by the doctor's obvious concern, Hannah found a small smile as Lawson stepped back. "You're doing a great job, Doc," she said warmly. "I probably haven't said thank you as often as I ought to have. So thank you."

"I should be able to do more." Lawson shook her head, and stripped her gloves with more force than was necessary, throwing them almost aggressively into the trash. "I should know why she isn't waking up. I have all the data, but I can't figure it out, and I should be able to do that. I should damn well  _know_."

"Don't beat yourself up, Doc. You're doing your best, I can see that. And nobody's perfect," Hannah observed, and Lawson snorted bitterly.

"Yes. So a very good friend of mine keeps telling me. It doesn't make me feel any better." She leaned against the cart for a moment, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then turned back. "I'm sorry, Admiral," she offered stiffly. "This must be difficult enough for you to go through without listening to me whine. I'll leave you in peace."

"Actually, if it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to talk a little more," Hannah decided suddenly, hungry for a little company after a long day of solo vigil, and reluctant to leave the younger woman in such a negative frame of mind. "Unless I'm keeping you from your duties?"

Lawson's expression became uncertain for a moment as she thought the question over. "No, ma'am, you're not," she admitted, though Hannah could sense her reluctance. "I'm actually off the clock, I was just checking in before I called it a night. But I'm not good at deep and meaningful conversations. I'm a researcher for a reason. I don't do social interaction very well. Patients and families are really not my thing."

"You're doing well enough for me," Hannah assured her. The doctor had been working hard to help Rachel, testified to by the dark shadows ringing her eyes. If Hannah was tired, then Lawson had to be exhausted, and if pulling rank was the only way to make her take a break, then that was what was going to happen. Her motivation was purely selfish, she knew; she wanted Rachel to have the best possible chance at recovery, and that meant Lawson had to be at the top of her game. "Would alcohol help?"

Lawson considered it. "Possibly."

"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Give me just a second." Hannah got to her feet, crossed the gap to Rachel's bedside and pressed a kiss to her daughter's cool, gaunt cheek. "Goodnight, Rachel," she murmured, "sleep tight. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you, kiddo."

As she straightened, Lawson dropped her gaze, but not before Hannah caught the naked look of longing that flashed across her alabaster features. Hannah bit back the urge to query it, sensing that the doctor would not appreciate her prying. "So, c'mon, Doc, let's go get a drink."

Lawson looked back up, her face totally composed once more. "I really don't think I should, Admiral - I have tests running, and..."

"That's an order.  _Major_."

The brunette winced and let out a barely audible sigh of resignation. "Yes, ma'am. Where to?"

"The bar in the rec room."

"There's a  _bar_  in the rec room?"

"Sure is." Hannah arched a questioning eyebrow. "I thought everyone knew about it by now?"

The major shook her head. "I haven't got out of the lab much, aside from to do my clinical rounds," she confessed. "Workaholic."

"Well, you're in for a treat," Hannah assured her as they fell into step and made their way along the corridor and down the dim emergency staircase to the first floor. "I don't know how the hell the asari running it managed to find the drinks she has, but there's quite the selection."

"So there's an asari running a bootleg bar in the hospital?" Lawson sounded incredulous. "Well, this I have to see."

"She's a scream - a matriarch, though you'd never think it to talk to her. Says she actually met Rachel in Nos Astra...hey, careful!" Hannah reached out to catch the medic's elbow as she stumbled.

"Sorry... bloody emergency lights," Lawson complained.

"So you say," Hannah replied dubiously. "I reckon you're even more tired than I am. When did you sleep last?"

"I don't remember," Lawson admitted.

"Then we'll have this drink, and after that I want you to hit your rack for a solid eight." She caught Lawson's cynical eye-roll, and grinned to herself, glad to be momentarily back in a situation she understood and could deal with; a case of an insubordinate subordinate. "I'm serious, Major. I'll have a marine detachment down here to stockade you if you won't give me your word."

The medic huffed, affronted, but nodded agreement after a moment. "All right. One drink, and then eight hours of rack time." Hannah waited, and Lawson sighed again. "I promise."

"Good." Hannah led her into the bar, smiling as she saw Aethyta industriously wiping down the work surface with a damp cloth. "Damn, are you doing what I think you're doing?"

Aethyta barked a laugh, spreading her arms wide. "What can I tell ya, babe? Your timing sucks." She dropped the cloth on the bar. "I was actually about to call it a night - it's pretty late for you to be out and about, ain't it?" Reaching under the counter, she retrieved two chipped teacups and a tumbler and set them on the surface.

"Yeah, we're just in for a nightcap. I take it you haven't met Dr. Lawson, since she didn't know this place was here." Hannah gestured to her companion, and Aethyta looked the medic up and down very slowly. They locked gazes for a second, then the asari shook her head.

"Nope. I can honestly say I've never met an Alliance officer called Lawson before." She stuck out a hand. "Name's Aethyta. Best bartender this side of the galactic core. What do I call you?"

"Lawson's fine. Nice to meet you," the medic replied, shaking the asari's hand briefly before perching on one of the stools before the bar. Hannah took the one next to her.

"Right. What'll you have, Lawson?"

"I'm partial to Serrice Ice Brandy, but I guess that's not on the drinks list?"

"You guess right. I couldn't smuggle any off the Destiny Ascension, Lidanya's got it locked up and under guard for her own personal use."

Lawson perused the selection of bottles critically. "Better make it a gin and tonic, then, please."

"You got it. Hannah?"

"Bourbon, please, Aethyta."

"So, how'd you wind up with a broken face, Lawson?" Aethyta asked.

"Transport crash," Lawson replied. "We were flying in to the combat zone to start medevac when the red beam fired. There was a Reaper destroyer above us in the atmosphere, and when it broke up, the debris hit my transport and knocked it out of the sky. I was lucky to walk away with just this." Her fingers stray absently to her scar, tracing the line across her cheek.

"Yeah, I'll say. It'll be a great conversation starter, though - lots of people dig scars."

"Mmm, so a turian I know says. With the caveat that most of those people are krogan."

"Nothing wrong with a good krogan," Aethyta rebuked.

"Like with anyone else, it's finding the good ones that's the hard part, right?" Lawson parried, and Aethyta smiled faintly.

"Ain't that the truth." She passed over their drinks.

"So you said you're a researcher, Major?" Hannah queried.

"That's right."

"How come you were on medevac duty?"

"I am a qualified physician, although I'm not in medical practice," Lawson explained, "but that's a distinction Alliance medical could no longer afford to make as the war progressed. Most of the research division were co-opted into emergency and trauma field rotations." She took a swallow from her drink. "Damn, that's good."

"So why pull you off field duty for Shepard's case? What makes you special?" Aethyta asked.

"My research is on cybernetic augmentation," Lawson replied, frowning at the asari. "Looking at how we can use tech to reduce combat trauma, boost healing, implants for situational awareness, that kind of thing. Since the Commander has a significant proportion of cybernetic systems implanted in her body, ever since Cerberus got their hands on her, my field of expertise made me the logical choice to take on her treatment."

"And we're lucky you're here," Hannah reassured the medic. "After what you explained to me upstairs about how that tech is helping, I... I'm actually glad for it. Before, I hated the idea of it, hated that she'd been used as some kind of damn guinea pig for those Cerberus assholes to experiment on. I mean, look at what they did to their own people. They could have done that to Rachel. How would we even know if they'd put in some kind of control, or programmed in a shutdown command?"

"I reckon it's pretty clear from Shepard's actions that Cerberus had no control over her whatsoever," Aethyta chuckled. "Must have hurt like hell, seeing humanity's finest systematically laying waste to all their precious little plots." She raised her glass in salute. "I saw what they did on the Citadel. Little fuckers got what was coming to them, and I hope they're all nice and toasty down in hell, or whatever it is you humans say."

"Burn in hell," Hannah supplied. "Amen to that."

Lawson took a deep gulp from her drink. "Whatever they were up to, they seem to have done the work on Commander Shepard with one very specific outcome in mind," she observed. "It's perhaps not a comfort, but from what I can tell, everything they did was geared to make Shepard as close to physically perfect as possible. There's no guidance tech in her brain, no control chips, nothing that would have allowed them to overlay an alternative agenda, and no..." she grimaced, "kill switch. Incredible as it sounds, they seem to just have wanted to have Commander Shepard, humanity's hero, back, and better than ever."

"Sounds like you admire them, Lawson," Aethyta remarked, and the medic flushed.

"I can recognize and admire their technical prowess without subscribing to their philosophies or their goals, can't I?" She sipped at her gin. "Bringing someone back from the dead - it shouldn't have been possible, no matter how much money they spent. So yes, I admire what was achieved with Commander Shepard. And you know what? I'm grateful for it, because we wouldn't bloody well be here now to have this conversation if Shepard hadn't been resurrected."

"Easy, there, Lawson," Hannah soothed, placing a restraining hand on the doctor's forearm, surprised by the sudden vehemence in the younger woman's tone.

"Jeez, yeah, kid, relax," Aethyta agreed, bristling slightly in turn. "No one's getting at  _you_. I'm just surprised - most Alliance folk I've spoken to haven't got a kind word to say about Cerberus."

"Well, I was never any good at groupthink," Lawson replied, rubbing her face with her hands. "I don't condone many of their actions, but it seems that occasionally even Cerberus were capable of producing a good thing." She looked up at Aethyta. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm a little tired, so you're not exactly seeing me at my best."

"You're exhausted," Hannah corrected.

"Don't worry about it," Aethyta dismissed the apology brusquely. "Everyone gets strung out now and again."

"For what it's worth, I hate Cerberus and what they stand for as much as the next person," Hannah noted, "but even so, if I were ever to meet the person that gave my little girl her life back, I'd be prepared to adopt them into my goddamn family. Whatever their motivation was, it's a debt I could never hope to repay. I'd love to be able to at least say thank you."

Lawson dropped her gaze, studying the surface of her drink intently. Aethyta chewed her lip for a moment, watching the doctor, then nodded. "I hear that. You never know your luck though, right? Maybe one day you will."

"Are you OK, Aethyta?" Hannah asked softly. The asari's reaction to Lawson had been almost hostile, and it wasn't like her. The bartender sighed heavily.

"Yeah, I... aw, shit." The matriarch looked down at the bar. "The Nefrane left for home this morning, so I had to say goodbye to my daughter, Andrya. Still haven't heard jack about the others. Not that I was expecting to for my girls on Thessia, but..."

"No word on your youngest either, "Hannah finished the thought, feeling a pang of sympathy for her friend's predicament. "God, I'm sorry. I keep unloading on you, and..."

"Hey, you don't need to apologise for that," Aethyta cut her off. "And you don't need my burdens as well as yours."

"Well, that's a two-way street," Hannah retorted, locking her gaze to the matriarch's. "I've got my woes, but I know where my kid is. I can see her, hold her, talk to her, even if she's not so chatty right now. I understand what it feels like to not know if your child is ever coming home - it's the worst feeling in the world, especially when you know they were in harm's way." She reached across the bar, patted Aethyta's knuckles comfortingly. "If you don't want to talk, I respect that. But if you do - don't hold it back on account of not wanting to bother me. This is what friends are for, right? So lay it on me."

"Shit," Aethyta breathed, her voice choked with emotion. She looked down again, visibly trying to compose herself, and Hannah stole a quick glance at Lawson. The doctor's expression was an odd blend of anguish and pity, the longing she had seen so briefly upstairs writ far more plainly this time, the sympathy starkly contrasted with her injured temper of a few moments previous. It was odd, but Aethyta clearing her throat dragged Hannah's attention back to the asari.

"It's been nearly six weeks," Aethyta almost whispered. "I didn't really get to know my baby girl until recently. Her mother and I were estranged, and I promised, rightly or wrongly, that I wouldn't interfere. And when I finally did meet her - Goddess, she was so smart, and bright, and optimistic, and so dedicated to the goal of helping people - she blew me away. And although I know her ship made pickup on her, I don't know if she was injured. She could have died. And if she did, she died alone, and Athame's infinite mercy, that's the last thing she deserved." Tears were streaming down the matriarch's face unchecked now, and Hannah tightened her grip on the indigo hand beneath hers.

"Didn't you say she had a partner?" she asked. "Could they not be there, on the ship?"

Aethyta shook her head. "No," she declared.

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm sure," Aethyta said firmly. "I saw the casualty reports from the battle. MIA." She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve as Hannah winced at the revelation. "I got no damn confirmation for anything. I'm imagining the worst, I know, and I have hope, but fuck... sometimes it's tough to keep being positive, y'know?"

"Yeah." Hannah lifted her glass, shot the remainder of her drink. "Do I ever."

Aethyta smiled weakly at her. "Thanks, babe. I needed that." She downed her own drink, grimacing as the alcohol bit. "That's good stuff. Want another one?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Lawson, want a top up?" The doctor didn't respond. "Hey, Lawson, you with us?"

"What?" The doctor blinked, tearing herself away from her contemplation of her empty glass. "Oh, sorry."

"You were a million miles away," Hannah noted. "Penny for them?"

Lawson smiled sadly. "I was just thinking that both of your daughters are lucky you care for them so much," she replied wistfully. "It's a rare thing, in my experience."

Aethyta looked at the doctor suspiciously for a moment, then her expression softened into a smile. "Thanks, kid, that's decent of you. Got a story there you want to share?"

"Not really," Lawson declined, "but Aethyta, if I may... I'm sure your daughter has friends aboard her ship. I'm sure she's not alone, wherever she is."

"Yeah. I'd sure love to know there's a happy ending waiting for her when she gets back, though."

"It's possible," Hannah offered. "Is Li's partner human?"

"Yeah."

"Well, MIA just means no one's sure where they are - there are a lot of people with no formal ID in this hospital, and with personnel records going up in smoke with the Arc and Vancouver, well, I'd guess most folk are listed as MIA because it's the most information anyone has. If you like, I could try and help you find him."

"Maybe later," Aethyta decided, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. "But thanks for the thought, I'll keep it in mind."

"It's funny, I was actually talking to Rachel about her old boyfriends earlier," Hannah recounted. "Bunch of deadbeats and losers, or so she'd tell you."

"All exes are," Lawson remarked dryly, nodding acceptance as Aethyta held out the gin bottle to top up her drink.

"I didn't think all of them were that bad," Hannah observed. "There was one I absolutely loathed, Dean, who fortunately didn't last long, and one I really liked, Rob, who lasted longer than most, but ultimately, none of them seemed to make her really happy." She smiled at Aethyta. "Your kid's lucky if she has someone who does." She chuckled wistfully. "That's all I ever wanted for Rach, someone who'd make her happy. Someone who'd accept her for who she is."

"I'd think whoever landed Commander Shepard would be pretty bloody lucky," Lawson noted.

"Oh yeah?" Aethyta fixed the doctor with a stare. "Got a little crush, have we, doc?"

"What?" Lawson shook her head, too quickly, and blushed. "No, of course not. I just meant... well, look at what she's accomplished. And all the people who are here looking in, checking up, ready to defend her with their lives - those krogan, that asari warrior, Lieutenant Cortez, and that psycho biotic instructor from Grissom Academy with her students. Shepard's obviously well loved, and there must be a reason for it."

"Uh-huh." Aethyta's eyes narrowed. "Still sounds like a crush to me."

"Oh for the love of God," Lawson groaned. "You win. Yes, all right, maybe a little, but who wouldn't have a crush on a hero like Shepard?"

Hannah looked at the doctor appraisingly; she was certainly a beautiful woman, in spite of her scar, and she was smart and driven, with a sly sense of humour lurking beneath her professional demeanour, something Hannah knew her daughter delighted in. "Y'know, I reckon she could do a lot worse than you, Major."

Lawson blushed again. "That's very kind, ma'am, but I'm damn sure she could do a lot better. But if she's going to be doing any romancing at all, we have to get her woken up and back on her feet, so if you'll excuse me," she tossed down the remainder of her drink, "I'm going to obey my orders and hit my rack so I can get back to work in the morning." Standing, she pulled herself to attention. "With the Admiral's permission?"

Hannah nodded. "Granted, Major. Good night. And thank you."

"Thank me when I've done my job, ma'am. Good night, Aethyta. Thanks for the drinks."

"Night, Lawson. Don't be a stranger."

The doctor walked quietly away, and the silence stretched for a moment before Aethyta chuckled. "I bet that one likes to bite and scratch in the sack. But damn if that booty wouldn't be worth the pain." At Hannah's look of disapproval, she grinned. "What?"

"You're eyeing up my kid's doctor now? Really?"

"What? Seems like she could do with some stress release. I know I could." Aethyta grinned as Hannah stared at her incredulously. "Relax, babe. Not happening. I only have eyes for you anyway, you know that."

"I just... shit, I didn't mean to imply..." Hannah shook her head. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"You were busy matchmaking your kid with Lawson," Aethyta suggested, "and I ruined the image."

"Not really," Hannah disagreed. "I'm not even sure Rachel likes girls - she's never brought one home up to now, at least - but it just felt like the right thing to say. Kid looked like she could do with a boost."

"But it wouldn't bother you?"

"Not at all." Hannah shrugged. "I dated a girl once, a long time ago, before I met Danny. Whatever makes Rachel happy is fine with me. I take it you don't bother much about gender?"

"Nah. When you've had sex with a hanar - let's just say it puts a lot of little appendages, or lack thereof, into perspective," Aethyta chuckled.

"How would you even..." Hannah caught herself. "No, strike that. I don't think I really want to know."

"In a swimming pool," Aethyta supplied, ignoring the attempted disengage. "Or zero gravity. Or using biotics, but that can backfire."

Hannah placed her right index finger in her right ear, and made a pained face. "Why?" she hazarded.

"Using biotics requires mental discipline, and control." Aethyta's hand lit up with blue fire, and she brought it close to Hannah's bare left forearm. Goosebumps broke out on her skin from the tingling sensation the energy created as Aethyta moved her fingers slowly from her wrist to her elbow. "You need a certain level of concentration." The asari made a grasping gesture, and Hannah's teacup lifted gently into the air. "And if your concentration breaks, as it just might in the throes of ecstasy..." The light winked out, and the cup slammed down onto the counter, cracking into two pieces on impact, "well, suffice to say, a lot of inexperienced couples end up in hospital after trying that one for the first time."

Hannah chuckled. "Young and stupid is young and stupid no matter where you go, right?"

"Oh yeah. Stupid is most definitely a galactic constant." Aethyta smiled. "Listen, kid, thanks again."

"Nothing to thank me for. You'd do the same for me. You  _do_  do the same for me." Hannah got up and checked her chrono. "Guess I'd better call it a night. See you tomorrow?"

"You bet, babe. You bet."

"Oh, and Aethyta?"

"Yeah, babe?"

Hannah nodded to the spilled bourbon. "You'd better clean the bar. Wouldn't want me to get the wrong idea, would you?"


	5. Crash

_The alarm shrieks like a wounded harpy, snapping me from my doze. Battle stations? No, wrong signal. What the fuck..._

_I'm in the hospital. The hospital. Rachel. My girl. In the bed there. In a coma, for six weeks and counting. But even as I look, she stiffens, every muscle in her body snapping rigid. A violent convulsion ripples through her, and then the cardiac monitor flatlines to a hellish, whistling monotone as she collapses back onto the bed, limp and totally still. Dumbly, I stare for a moment, listen for a moment, till the import of what I'm witnessing seeps into my fuzzy brain._

_"Help!" I scream. "Somebody help me!"_

_Lawson and Price burst through the door as though the devil's on their heels, Lawson making a beeline to the bed, Price to the shrieking instruments. "Fuck!" Lawson growls as she checks for a pulse._

_"Shit, Lawson, she's arrested!" Price, checking the monitors._

_"I can bloody well see that! Get the crash team up here, stat, and get Admiral Shepard the fuck out of this room, now!" Lawson is already performing CPR._

_"No! Rachel... baby... please!" The cry tears from my throat unbidden, uncontrolled._

_Strong hands grip my shoulders, propel me forcibly through the door, deposit me roughly in a chair. Price has no time for manners, hitting his omni-tool even as my ass hits the hard wooden seat. "Code Blue, Code Blue! Floor three, room twenty-one. Repeat, Code Blue, Code Blue, floor three, room twenty-one!"_

_"Copy," a terse voice responds, and Price looks down sternly. "Stay out here, Admiral, you hear me?" he barks. I nod mechanically, and he takes it as confirmation, pushing back through the door._

_"...Non-responsive. Intubate her. C'mon Shep, stay with me, don't you_ fucking _do this to me, not now, not after all this..."_

_The door swings shut._

_I am bereft._

**oOoOo**

It was mid-shift, usually a quiet time at the bar. There were a dozen or so folk scattered around, and even though none of Aethyta's customers were drinking alcohol, the atmosphere in the room was convivial, almost upbeat. At least, it was until the intercom blared through the rec room, shattering the babbling murmur of conversation. "Code Blue, Code Blue! Floor three, room twenty-one. Repeat, Code Blue, Code Blue, floor three, room twenty-one!"

With a deafening scrape of chair legs on linoleum, four of the human medical staff bolted from their chairs. So abrupt was their departure that the doors swung violently in and out for several seconds, hinges squeaking vociferously as if to protest their harsh treatment.

A whisper of conjecture ran around the room, pitched too low for Aethyta to hear, but she could tell from the way the remaining staff were communicating with furtive, quick glances that they all knew something bad had happened. Sighing, she decided on the direct approach, and grabbed the one nearest to her, a paramedic who was usually as garrulous as a salarian salesman. "What's going on? Why's everyone gone quiet all of a sudden. Who died?"

The human dropped his gaze, and the unspoken answer hit Aethyta in the gut like a sack of bricks. There was only one patient in the building whose passing could have this kind of effect. "Aww, crap," she cursed, letting go of the human. She hunted through her stores quickly, looking for one very specific bottle, and as soon as she found it she was running. "You assholes keep your thieving mitts off my stocks!" she flung over her shoulder as she took her turn at barging the doors, sprinting down the corridor, and taking the stairs to the third floor two at a time.

Skidding to a halt at the door to the waiting area for Shepard's room, she spotted Hannah sitting motionless on a chair by the inner door, staring fixedly at nothing, tears streaming down her cheeks as she waited, helpless and alone, listening to the wailing alarms and terse, frantic shouts of the medics' battle. She looked small, vulnerable, fragile, a shocking contrast to her normal aura. Short and slightly built she might be, but Hannah Shepard radiated a leader's presence and confidence, and to see her shorn of it was far too intimate an exposure for their brief friendship. Aching with embarrassment and pity, Aethyta walked across and crouched before the human and reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. "Hey, kid," she said softly. "C'mon. Come and sit with me someplace quiet. You don't have to sit here. You don't need to listen to this."

Hannah stared through her, seemingly lost in her own mind, but before Aethyta could try again, she spoke. "Her heart stopped. She's dying," she whispered. "I'm... I'm going to lose her again."

"They're doing everything they can for her," Aethyta said firmly. "They're still in there, still fighting for her. They won't give up - Lawson's as stubborn as they come, and your gal's the hardest fighter in the galaxy. C'mon, babe. Come away with me for now." Tightening her grip, she drew Hannah to her feet, wrapped an arm around the shivering human woman. Hannah allowed her to steer her away, down the corridor to a room near the stairwell where they couldn't hear the commotion. Opening her omni-tool, Aethyta dropped Miranda a quick message to let her know where they were, then guided Hannah to sit down on the bed.

The human followed her directions mechanically, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she stared through the wall. Aethyta sat down beside Hannah, watched her for a moment, then gritted her teeth and hooked an arm around the Admiral's shoulders. For a long, charged moment, they sat in absolute silence, and then a broken-hearted wail ripped from Hannah Shepard's chest. Instinctively, Aethyta pulled her closer, letting the human bury her face against her neck and wrapping her in a full, protective hug as the last supporting struts of the dam holding back Hannah's terrible fear and grief failed catastrophically. Aethyta remembered all too vividly the numb shock of learning of her eldest daughter's Aenya's death, the terrible sense of isolation and distance from her surroundings, the thunder of her heartbeat echoing in her skull and rendering her deaf. She hadn't seen the doctor leaving, hadn't noticed the nurse surreptitiously assigned to watch her. She'd seen, heard,  _felt_  nothing but the cold depths of the void around her, a frozen cocoon of denial and incomprehension, until Aenya's sister, Andrya, had arrived and embraced her, physically dragging her back to the moment, back to the titanic reality of her loss. The action had released a flood of breathtaking pain, but had at the same time provided the anchor that prevented her from being swept away.

Wordlessly, Aethyta held her human friend in a close embrace, letting her grieve, giving nothing more than the tactile comfort of physical support. There was nothing she could say to alleviate this anguish - those who hadn't experienced it could not imagine it, and those who had knew better than to offer hollow words.

Eventually, inevitably, Hannah's grief became exhausted, and she quieted, the racking sobs losing frequency and force as the minutes passed. She shifted her shoulders, and Aethyta loosened her hold. The human pulled back a little, sucking in a deep breath.

"I don't know if I c-can do this again," she choked out after a moment, running her hands up and down her face. "I... I can't bury her  _again_ , I just... I don't know... why the fuck did they give her back just to t-tear her away from me again?"

"You're jumping to conclusions, kid," Aethyta said quietly, hating how empty her words sounded even to her own senses. "You don't know what's happening yet. She might pull through."

Hannah shook her head. "Luck runs out eventually," she countered morosely, kicking at the floor. "And hearing all these stories about staring down Reapers and thresher maws and asari vampires... Even the fact she was still breathing when they found her was a goddamn miracle. Something has to g-give."

"Don't think like that," Aethyta chided her gently. "Your kid doesn't see things that way, otherwise she wouldn't have gotten all that shit done. No reason to assume she'd give up now."

Hannah looked up at her with haunted eyes. "I want to believe that," she whispered, "but winning this thing was all-consuming. I heard it in her voice the last time we spoke. She'd put everything she had, heart and soul, into this fight. And now that it's won, what does she have left to fight for?"

Aethyta barely caught herself on the cusp of the truth. Now was so utterly  _not_  the time for shocking revelations regarding Shepard junior's love life.  _And by the way, fuck you for putting me in this position, little miss Spectre,_  she cursed. Maybe pissing Shepard's spirit off would galvanise her to fight, one more time. "She has what she had before. Her friends, her comrades, her family. The people she loves most." Aethyta reached out to tweak Hannah's chin. "You. She'd want to see you again, I can tell that much. All that fight the good fight stuff is secondary to the big truth - people fight for the people they love, and the people Shepard loves were all still alive and kicking when she went MIA. Her world view can't have changed that much while she's been sleeping."

Hannah looked away, staring out of the door, and Aethyta turned to follow her gaze, wincing as she saw the four medics who had so hastily departed the rec room earlier walking slowly back toward the stairs, followed a moment later by Price. When she turned back to regard Hannah, the human's woman's expression had crumpled once more into such abject misery that it started a sympathetic ache in Aethyta's chest. She reached for the bottle she'd brought with her, uncapping it and offering it to the human. "Here. Drink some of this. It'll take the edge off."

Hannah complied, taking a deep swig from the bottle, then a second as Aethyta nodded encouragement. She handed it back wordlessly, and Aethyta set it on the floor. "Not joining me?" Hannah asked woodenly.

"Nah. I don't like the taste of that shit," Aethyta replied, which was true insofar as it went. Sleepwine, a strongly fortified variant of  _elasa_ , was as sugary and sweet as the carbonated drinks humans seemed to so enjoy, but its primary purpose was, as the name suggested, to relax the drinker enough to permit a decent night's sleep. For asari, drinking it resulted in a pleasant tiredness, but for humans it had a far more dramatic effect, as Aethyta had observed on the few occasions she'd administered it to some poor bastard on the salvage crews who'd seen one atrocity too many, picked the broken body of one too many children from the rubble. She'd been surprised to find a few bottles locked in the office of a physician assumed MIA long since, but had stashed them carefully, aware of their value and the potential for misuse. But right now, a little dreamless oblivion was exactly what Hannah needed. Tightening her arm once more, Aethyta pulled Hannah in close, and rocked her soothingly, projecting as much calm and security as she could, and almost imperceptibly, the alcohol and the comfort worked their magic. The human's breathing deepened and regulated until she fell asleep, propped against the matriarch's shoulder, worn out by this last, devastating shock on top of the weeks of unceasing vigil over her helpless child.

Aethyta shifted round to lay Hannah down on the bed, and just as she draped a blanket over the admiral's petite form, her omni-tool chirped discreetly. Accessing it, she found a terse text message waiting.

_Aethyta. Come to Shepard's room._

Dread crawled up Aethyta's throat, but hiding from the truth wasn't going to help anyone. Steeling herself, she slipped out into the corridor and walked the twenty paces or so to Shepard's door, muttering a brief prayer before entering the treatment room.

Miranda Lawson was sitting quietly by Shepard's bed with tear tracks shining on her face. "Aw fuck, no," Aethyta growled, dejected, "is she...?"

Miranda looked round sharply, “What? Oh, no...no, she's..." she sighed, scrubbing at the damp trails on her cheeks with the sleeve of her lab coat, "going to be fine."

"She's stabilized?"

"Even better. She... she woke up." The former Cerberus operative smiled luminously, happy relief shining in her features. "Just for a few minutes, but she was lucid, she knew who she was, she knew who I was, what had been happening. She's going to make it. I can hardly believe it."

Joy and relief flooded through Aethyta. "That's great. Athame's sweet azure, you did it!" She wrapped an arm around the human's shoulders and squeezed. "Hell of a job, kid."

"Thanks, Aethyta." Miranda blew out a long, relieved breath. "Shep... she wanted to know about the Normandy."

" 'Course she did. Don't we all." Aethyta pushed down the swell of fear that scrabbled at her stomach, souring her good cheer a little. No news was good news. She had to go on believing that. "But one step at a time."

"Yeah, you're right." Miranda looked past her curiously. "Where's the Admiral?"

"Sleeping. She was completely shattered, so I slipped her some sleepwine. She was convinced Shepard was going to snuff it this time."

Miranda nodded. "It was touch and go for a few minutes. Scared the shit out of me, I don't mind admitting - when we finally managed to jump start her, her brain activity was off the chart." She shook her head in confusion. "It was the damndest thing. Still, I'm grateful you were there to take care of the Admiral, thank you for that. It's been a rough few weeks for her. She's barely slept - anytime I'm here, she seems to be, just sitting, watching and waiting. I'm glad we'll finally be able to set her mind at rest."

"Yeah," Aethyta agreed, pushing down a selfish twinge of jealousy.

"She's really nice," Miranda observed. "I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose, but she's so much like Shep."

"And you like Shepard a lot, right?" Aethyta probed, struck again by the depth of affection the normally icy ex-Cerberus operative displayed in relation to Shepard.

Miranda smiled wryly, her relief clearly granting her licence for levity. "Why don't you just ask me straight out, Aethyta?"

"That's my kid's girlfriend," Aethyta said bluntly, pointing to the unconscious Spectre. "You're not planning on interfering, I hope?"

Miranda arched an incredulous eyebrow, smiled almost pityingly, and patted Shepard's hand. "You've watched them together, right? I mean, you  _have_  seen the way she looks at Liara?"

Aethyta nodded thoughtfully, remembering the devastation in the Spectre's eyes as she hunched over her whisky in Eternity after her first attempted reunion with Liara, and the uninhibited joy that had shone from the human's face every time she'd bounced up to the bar at Apollo's when she knew Liara was there. "Yeah. Once or twice."

"Then you know what I mean. Christ, it's like there's no one else in the bloody room. Like Liara's the lodestone of her entire existence. And it's  _totally_  reciprocated. It would be absolutely fucking nauseating to have to spend any time around the two of them if it weren't so  _completely_  unconscious." Miranda chuckled softly. "Even if I  _did_  have designs on Shepard, I wouldn't have a hope. But I don't. She's my friend. She trusts me, and I trust her, and that's rare enough to be very precious to me." The ex-Cerberus lieutenant met Aethyta's gaze squarely, and the asari was left in no doubt as to the truth. Lawson  _did_  love Shepard, but that love was loyalty, trust and comradeship, the foundations of a deep and abiding friendship, lacking the spark of desire that would ignite the all-consuming passion that Aethyta had known with Benezia, that she knew their daughter bore for the human soldier sleeping not six feet away.

"Besides," Miranda continued with a sly grin, "your  _kid_  is the bloody  _Shadow Broker_. And even leaving aside her sinister alter ego, as one of the heroes of the Normandy she's generally considered to be one of the five most badass beings in the galaxy. Aria T'Loak's one rule would be a useful guideline for all those morons foolhardy enough to consider pissing off Shepard, Liara, Garrus, Commander Williams, or Wrex."

"Yeah well, however hardass they turn out to be as adults, they're still your kids and you'd still kill to protect them, even if they don't need you to," Aethyta grumbled grudgingly. "Especially when it comes to affairs of the heart. Straight-up sex is easy - it's the damn relationships that do all the damage."

"Amen to that," Miranda agreed, but Aethyta wasn't really listening, her attention focused on Shepard's still form. She walked over to the bedside, and took a good, long look at the woman her daughter had fallen so hard for. Against her better judgement, she'd liked the Spectre from the moment she'd met her, a rarity among the Council's shadowy envoys. The kid enjoyed a good joke, and a good drink, and she certainly attractive, with the deep fiery colour of her hair, her ready smile and the toned physique of a commando. Aethyta could easily see what had physically attracted Liara to the human, but watching her daughter wither away emotionally during her time on Illium, listening to her cry herself to sleep at night or call Shepard's name in her nightmares via the short-lived bugs she'd occasionally snuck into the apartment in Nos Astra, she'd often wondered exactly what it was about Shepard that meant her loss had wounded Liara so very deeply.

Certainly the Commander had a reputation for the kind of towering chivalry that was normally the preserve of the Justicars, but the asari warriors paid a heavy emotional price for their service, which rendered them cold, aloof, and utterly unsympathetic. Once she'd met Shepard, she'd understood a little better, recognised the charisma and courage that could persuade others to follow her gladly into the mouth of hell, but still... this warrior, this champion, for all her gifts as a soldier, was not really what Aethyta had envisioned as Liara's type. Her youngest daughter's infrequent forays into relationships, detailed in rare, treasured letters from Benezia, had seemed to indicate a bent for bookish, scholarly types, quiet introverts like herself, but as she'd become more and more immersed in her research, even those tentative early steps had come to a halt. The revelation that, in the few short months between packing her bags for Therum (the topic of the last letter Benezia had ever written to Aethyta) and the loss of the Normandy, Liara had not only met some humans for the first time, but joined the crew of their most prestigious military vessel, deployed in combat, faced and defeated the ruin of her mother, been decorated for bravery, and fallen in love with the dashing hero of the Citadel, had been almost impossible for Aethyta to comprehend. She could still remember the slack-jawed astonishment with which she'd stared at Irissa and Lidanya as they outlined precisely why she had been roped back into the political shitstorm of the matriarchy, as they showed her surveillance photos from the Presidium of Liara kissing the (overly handsy) human Spectre in full public view.  _My little girl, sleeping with Commander Shepard?_

Listening to Shepard's mother and comrades over the past weeks, she realised, had given her a much deeper understanding of the soldier who'd claimed Liara's heart. She was bold, beautiful, and fun-loving without a doubt, but beneath those bright, mirrored surfaces there lurked a far more complex character, a leader and a guardian, blessed with courage and compassion, honour and humility, intelligence and intuition. A builder of friendships, generous with her time and her abilities, honest and selfless, with a world view that let her treat all beings as equals. "Yeah," Aethyta admitted softly, "I see it, Little Wing. This might just be the only person in the galaxy who qualifies as good enough for you." Aethyta grinned to herself. " _Maybe_. I always did have high standards." Shepard's eyelids fluttered briefly, as though in response, and the matriarch chuckled as she reached out to pat Shepard's hand. "Don't get cocky, now. You still have a lot to prove to me."

She turned back to Lawson to see the human studying the cracked linoleum of the floor with intense interest. "So, what's your next move?" she asked.

"Keep adjusting the programming in the nanites to make sure they're optimized." Miranda shrugged. "We'll want her to be as fit as possible for the Normandy getting back - we should try and make sure the reunion doesn't put her back in a coma."

Aethyta felt the familiar pull of worry in her gut as Lawson mentioned Shepard's ship again. She knew it was irrational, but she knew Liara had been injured, and that there was a real risk she had succumbed to her wounds. Miranda seemed to read her thoughts, slipping from her stool and walking over. She eyed Aethyta uncertainly. "I... I'm not very good at this, but... if the Alliance crews have been able to get their birds home, I'm damn sure that the Normandy is on her way. Joker and EDI will have everything under control. And if there's a better doctor in all of Council space than Karin Chakwas, I've never heard of them. Even if Liara was injured, she's receiving the best care she could possibly have."

Aethyta nodded, grateful for the attempt at reassurance. "Thanks," she said gruffly, tears thickening her voice.

"And..." Lawson continued, "I'm sorry about the other night. If I'm caught, I'll be arrested and probably executed without trial - I have to be careful. Not a lot of love for Cerberus around here, even if I did tell them to piss off months ago."

"Don't worry about it," Aethyta dismissed the concern. "I was out of line pushing you. So, uh... will Shepard will make a full recovery?"

"I've got no reason to think otherwise. Now that she'll be conscious and responsive, I'll be able to tune her cybernetics more effectively."

"Right. Good. We should tell Hannah, then," Aethyta suggested. "Should I go get her?"

"I'll come with you," Miranda decided. "She should hear the news as soon as possible."

"You got it, Doctor Lawson," Aethyta grinned, and Miranda grinned with her as they fell into step.

**oOoOo**

_"Hannah?" The voice is very far away._

_A hand shakes my shoulder. "C'mon, babe, time to rise and shine. Dr. Lawson's here."_

_Lawson? What's she doing here? I open my eyes, blinking blearily, smile back at Aethyta, and then suddenly, as I see the doctor, it all comes crashing down on me. The alarms, the flatline, Rachel... Oh God... Rachel. My breath sobs in my throat as I suck in a panicked breath. Aethyta's grip on my shoulder locks rigid, and Lawson grabs my hands, unwinding me gently from my protective ball. She's smiling. "It's OK, ma'am," she says loudly, clearly. "Commander Shepard's going to be just fine."_

_I don't understand. She was dead, I heard it. Lawson squeezes my hands gently, nods vigorously._

_"It's OK, Hannah," she repeats confidently. "We were able to stabilize the Commander's condition."_

_I blinked at her in groggy disbelief, still not sure I dare to understand. "What?"_

_"We were able to revive her," Lawson explains. "She's stable and resting comfortably." The doctor's grin widens. "And I'm delighted to report that she regained consciousness. Only for a few minutes, but she knew who she was, and she asked for you. I placed her under controlled sedation, but once you, and she, have had a good night's rest, well..." the doctor breaks into a chuckle, "you'll be able to talk to her in the morning."_

_I glance at Aethyta, and my friend nods in confirmation. "All true. I saw her a minute ago. Sleeping like a baby."_

_I am exalted._


	6. Truth or Dare

"So. You lied to me."

Aethyta looked up from her intent consideration of her collection of spirits.  "Yeah. I did,” she admitted baldly.  “And I'd do it again."  Plucking a bottle from the small forest, she tilted it toward the admiral, a peace offering.  "Bourbon?"

"Hell, yes." Hannah perched on the nearest stool as the asari filled two cracked porcelain teacups and slid one over to her. She cocked an expectant eyebrow. "With a side order of abject confession?"

"You got it. Here's to full disclosure," the matriarch toasted, raising her cup and taking a deep gulp from her drink. Hannah did the same.  Although it was still relatively early in the day, the events of the past day or so, to her mind, more than justified an early start.

_She's just about got a lock on her surprise at the sudden appearance of two of the Normandy's medical team when Lawson arrives and is greeted with a crushing hug from Dr. Chakwas._

_"Oh, Miranda, dear, it's so good to see you safe."_

_It takes Hannah a moment to remember Rachel's comment about Lawson serving on the Normandy, to rationalize why the two women know one another. "You too, Karin," Lawson returns warmly before turning to the doctor's strikingly beautiful asari companion.  "And you, Liara," she says, sweeping the suddenly tearful alien into a hug._

_Liara - that's the name of Aethyta's daughter. Is it possible?  Why would Aethyta not have told her if her daughter was on the Normandy, if her daughter knew Rachel, had been serving with her? Liara. Liara T'Soni.  Of course. Hannah feels more than a little foolish as she realises that she's failed to make the blindingly obvious connection. But why would Aethyta hide it?_

_Liara seems agitated, shifting her weight ceaselessly, her gaze roving restlessly around the ante-room as the medics talk shop.  Hannah stops listening, intrigued by the asari.  She seems very young, tired and worried-looking, yet with a tremendous anticipation in her gaze.  She takes a nervous step towards Lawson, dry-washing her hands, and Dr. Chakwas chuckles softly.  "_ _All right, Liara, I think you've suffered long enough. If Miranda thinks Shepard is up to visitors..."_

_"Well, she's sleeping right now, sedated, but she should wake up shortly..." Lawson starts to say, but she's cut off by Liara taking a quick, determined pace towards Rachel's bedroom and then stopping, as though she's listening for something.  She stills, every nervous motion cast off.  The seconds stretch into an uncomfortable silence, and eventually Chakwas takes a step toward the frozen asari._

_"Liara?" she queries, grasping her shoulder, and the alien starts quite suddenly._

_"She's awake," she says cryptically, walking toward the door to the bedroom._

_Hannah's too bemused by the whole scene to even consider trying to stop her. The door opens before Liara takes more than three steps, and Rachel is standing there, body trembling with the effort.  Her gaze zeroes in on the asari, and her expression shifts from pained effort to heartbreaking hope in a split second.  Hannah has never seen her daughter look that way at anyone, and watches spellbound as Rachel mouths the asari's name, as Liara throws herself forward with a broken sob, as they fall into each other, the asari making sure that it's her knees that crack against the floor, her body that absorbs the impact, wrapping Rachel in a protective embrace as they kiss, the kiss so intense that Hannah feels a blush crawling up her neck just watching._

_After a moment, Lawson shakes Liara’s shoulder, mutters something to her. The asari stands, lifting Rachel easily.  Rachel coils her arms around Liara’s neck, submitting to being looked after, and Hannah’s astonishment redoubles._

_“Go on, Liara,” Lawson reassures the asari with a blinding smile.  “She’s been waiting for you.”_

_Liara turns, her gaze locking with Hannah’s, and the profound delight on her tear-streaked face puts the case beyond doubt; Liara, Aethyta’s daughter, is Rachel’s lover.  “Admiral Shepard,” she addresses Hannah with deep respect, “with your permission?”_

_Faced with overwhelming evidence that this is the final piece of the puzzle of Rachel’s recovery, there’s not much Hannah can do but agree.  Part of her is hurt that all of these strangers are privy to her ignorance, to a truth that has been kept from her, but it’s a small part compared to her relief and joy at knowing that there’s a happy ending to all of the pain and heartache of the war within Rachel’s grasp.  She nods a benediction.  “Of course.  Rachel clearly needs you.” There will be plenty of time to talk about everything afterward._

“Babe?” Aethyta’s voice cut through Hannah’s reverie. 

“Sorry, I drifted for a moment.”  She leaned on the bar. “So, hit me.  Why hide the truth from me?”

 "I was trying to protect you. And Liara. And, to a lesser extent, myself." Aethyta tilted her head to one side, considering Hannah carefully. "That first night we talked, I mentioned Liara, gave you enough info to make the connection, and you didn't react at all.  I took that to mean that you didn't know about their relationship, and you confirmed it not ten minutes later when you told me about Shepard's ex-boyfriends, how you thought she’d never really been in love. If your little girl had died in that bed, and you'd found out from someone else that she'd met the love of her life but that she hadn't told you, for whatever reason, how would you have felt?  I mean, granted, it would be a sunfish's piss in the ocean next to the pain of losing her, but you'd always wonder why she hadn't told you.  It would eat at you.  You didn't need that. Nobody needs that kind of uncertainty – never knowing why someone you love would choose to keep something important from you is a special kind of hell."

Hannah took another mouthful of whiskey, rolled it around on her tongue contemplatively as she considered the asari's words. "Maybe.  Or maybe I'd have preferred to know that she'd at least been happy in her last days, that someone had been there for her." She sighed pensively. 

Aethyta grimaced.  "Never thought of that. Shit.” She rubbed at her forehead, looking chagrined. “I'm sorry, kid. It wasn't my intent to hurt you.  I thought I was doing the right thing by you.”

Hannah smiled, touched.  Her talk with Rachel and Liara earlier had cleared up a lot of the mystery. She could understand why Aethyta had been so close-mouthed given the circumstances, and this further avowal that the matriarch had indeed, only been trying to help had affirmed her sense that her new friend had been motivated by care, the same care she’d shown so selflessly the night Rachel had nearly died. “It’s OK, Aethyta.  Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in your shoes.” Hannah reached out to take the asari’s hand.  “Thank you.  For everything. For being here for me, for trying to protect me. You’re a good friend.”

“Thanks, babe. That’s sure kind of you.” Aethyta sighed.  “A thousand years old, and I’m still learning, and fast running out of time to make that learning count.  I keep forgetting that humans have a different outlook. For an asari, shielding a friend like that would be a no brainer, and I projected that onto you." 

"And yet you had the nerve to call Shepard a... what was it again... oh yes, an anthropocentric bag of dicks," a new voice accused. Hannah turned to see Liara approaching, her gaze locked on her father, an amused smirk playing about the corners of her mouth.

"I was referring to humanity as a whole," Aethyta replied loftily, "though now that I've met a few more I'm thinking of revising that opinion." She tipped a wink to Hannah.

"We're pretty bad at cross-species stuff, I won't deny that," Hannah observed wryly.  "Which is why we still get idiots like Terra Firma and Cerberus interfering with those of us who actually think getting to know the other races is a good thing."

"It's a very good thing," Liara agreed with a shy smile.

"When you get the good ones," Aethyta corrected her daughter.  "Mind you, you seem to have picked out a pretty good one."  She grinned.  "You can't ever tell Shepard I admitted that, though. We don't have that kind of relationship."

"As far as I can tell, your relationship seems to consist solely of abuse," Liara remarked dryly.

"Yeah, well, it's a language we both understand. But what are you doing down here? I didn't think we'd have been able to pry you off your wounded hero with a crowbar just yet. Not that she’s really fit enough to be any fun right now."

Liara chuckled softly even as she blushed.  "Clearly you've never tried telling Karin Chakwas you don't want to do what she says.  Not even Shepard gets away with that. Protesting is rather like throwing stones at an avalanche. I was told to “go amuse myself” for an hour while she completes some procedure or other."

  "Doctors," Aethyta grinned, "megalomaniacs the lot of 'em. Pull up a seat, Little Wing. What'll you have?"

"Do you have any Scotch?"

"Yeah." Aethyta picked out three bottles. "Lemme see, blended, twelve-year-old single malt, or twenty-year-old single malt?"

Liara studied the labels for a moment. "The twelve year old, please - it's one of the smoky ones."

"Wow.  Didn't realise you knew the difference."

"We've been experimenting with Anderson's collection," Liara explained as Aethyta poured her drink. "He had quite an assortment. Special occasions only, of course, but this seems like an appropriate moment to indulge."  She accepted her glass and turned on her stool so that she could face both Hannah and Aethyta.  "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Hannah.  Please let me answer as many of them as I can," she invited.

Hannah nodded.  "I can think of quite a few, but actually, Aethyta, the first one’s for you.”

“Shoot,” Aethyta invited.  “I’m done hiding things from you.”  She grinned cheekily.  “I swear by the blue on Athame’s divine ass.”

"I'm still not clear on why you didn’t tell me who your daughter really was.  Even if I didn't know about the relationship, I knew Liara T'Soni was one of Rachel's crew.  If I'd known the ship you were referring to was the Normandy, we would have had some very different conversations."

"Yeah." Aethyta scratched at her chin, looking expectantly at her daughter. Liara arched one of her eyebrow markings questioningly, then sighed in exasperation. 

"Really, Dad?"

"Hey, you're the one who wants to do the bridge building here."

"I'm not the one who lied to Hannah," Liara retorted.  There was a tense pause, then the younger alien huffed, "Oh, fine," and turned to Hannah. "At the risk of sounding like history repeating – our relationship is not common knowledge.  Very few of Shepard's crew know Aethyta is my father – it wasn't something I chose to share beyond a few trusted confidantes."  She shrugged deprecatingly.  "Force of habit – one of the earliest lessons you learn in the information trade is never to disclose knowledge if you don't need to.  Breaking that conditioning takes a concerted effort, especially when the information is personal."

“Samara, Wrex, Jack, and Grunt didn’t know,” Aethyta picked up, “and I didn’t know if Liara had told them, or if she even wanted them to know.” She shrugged awkwardly.  “I… crap, how to put this… I haven’t exactly been a model parent to her.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You provided me with Something every girl needs – a company of Eclipse commandos,” Liara chuckled. “I told you before – you’re the best Dad a girl could wish for. And I’m proud to be your daughter.”

Aethyta blushed violently.  “Yeah… shit, you really know how to sucker punch, don’t you?  Just like your Mom.”  She winked at Liara affectionately.  “Anyway, I warned them all not to mention your relationship in front of Hannah.  And I also didn’t know how much any of those guys knew about your work – and given that Samara’s pathologically predisposed towards executing criminals, I thought I’d better not be too free with any information.”

Liara shrugged, flicked a quick glance around the rec room.  “Oh, they all know I’m the Shadow Broker,” she said quietly.  “Hence why Samara has never revoked her oath of subsumation.”

Hannah nearly choked on her drink.  “Did I hear that right?” she spluttered.  “You’re the…” she wasn’t sure she should repeat it.

Liara nodded, grimacing.  “I am.  It’s a long story, and I’ll gladly tell you it, but not here.”  She looked around again warily.  “Too much chance that someone will walk in and hear something.”

“And then we’d have to hide the bodies,” Aethyta quipped.

“Does Rachel know?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, of course. She, uh... helped me get the job, as it were,” Liara hedged. “During the mission to stop the Collectors.  Which is why the crew all know.  Including Miranda.”

“Well, I figured Lawson knew everything,” Aethyta observed.  “She’s a proper smart-ass, that one. And she and Shepard are pretty tight.”

Yes," Liara agreed.  "Rachel trusts her, and so do I."

"Miranda – that’s Dr. Lawson?" Hannah queried. "Rachel said she'd served with her before."

Liara shot her a pained glance.  "In a manner of speaking, I suppose that's true. Miranda worked for Cerberus.  She was Shepard's XO on the Collector mission, but more importantly, she was the head of the Lazarus project.  Miranda was the one who rebuilt Rachel, brought her back from the dead.  And from what Karin says, if she hadn't been on hand to work with the tech she installed, Rachel would have died from her injuries on the Citadel."

Hannah stared at the asari who had turned out to be her de facto daughter-in-law. "Lawson's not Alliance?" _Christ, is there anyone in this building who is just who they say they are?_

"No, Admiral, I'm not,” Lawson’s distinctive voice sounded from behind Hannah as she walked up to the bar.  "I'm probably the most wanted woman in Council space."

“Oh, I wouldn't bet on that," Liara murmured into her drink, and Lawson grinned at her.

"Present company excepted."  She looked over at Aethyta.  "Any chance of a drink, Aethyta?"

"G and T?"

"That'd be great, thanks." The medic smiled ruefully at Hannah.  "I'm sorry, Admiral, but the deception _was_ necessary.  I am a known Cerberus agent and a wanted criminal.  I couldn't take the chance of confiding in you, or someone else hearing something they shouldn't - if I'd been discovered and arrested, Shep would have died. I couldn't risk it. And I was under orders from Admiral Hackett to disclose my identity to no one.  Samara, Grunt, Wrex, and Jack were sworn to secrecy, so I nearly had heart failure when I discovered that Aethyta was here as well."

"But you risked exposure and capture to help Rachel?  Why?"

"Because I owe her my life," Miranda replied simply, "and my sister's life twice over.  Because she helped me when no one else would, or could.  Because she’s my bloody hero. But mostly, because she's my friend, probably the only real friend I have, and I didn't want to lose her."

Liara reached out and squeezed the medic's shoulder.  "She's not your only friend, Miranda," she stated firmly.

Hannah turned Miranda to face her, locking gazes with her, trying to process these new revelations.  "You sat there," she pointed to the barstool next to her, "not one week ago, and you let me say all that stuff about Cerberus, and you didn't even crack a light?"

Miranda nodded shortly and lowered her gaze.  "I’m a very good liar. I’ve had to be, in my line of work. But I regret the necessity in this instance. And a lot of what you said was justified."

Hannah slid her finger under Lawson's chin and lifted the younger woman's face until she was looking right at her.  "So, is what Liara says true? Were you the one who brought my little girl back?"

"Well, I couldn't have done it if Liara hadn't retrieved her body from the Collectors, so..."

"So help me God, Lawson, answer the damn question," Hannah growled in her best quarterdeck voice. "I'm aware of Liara's contribution.  Are you the person who brought my little girl back from the dead?"

Miranda nodded fractionally, eyes wary.  "Yes."

Hannah hopped down off her stool and threw her arms around the younger woman, hugging her. Miranda stiffened reflexively, but Hannah tightened her hold.  "I meant what I said, and knowing that you've saved her life again, at such risk to yourself, just makes it all the more important," she whispered, for Miranda's ears alone.  "Thank you, Miranda.  Thank you so much."

As she pulled back, she saw Miranda was blushing, her shoulders rigid with tension, her luminous blue eyes burnished with tears.  "You're welcome, Admiral."

"Hannah. My friends call me Hannah."

Miranda smiled.  "You're welcome, Hannah."

Hannah looked around the group.  "So, in summary there was essentially a massive conspiracy to keep me in the dark?"

"So it would appear," Liara agreed with a sidelong glance at her father.

Aethyta shrugged deprecatingly. "Only with the best of intentions."

"That's what you said when you bugged my office in Nos Astra," Liara said, but the accusation was amused.

"And your apartment.  And your skycar. But speaking of keeping secrets," Aethyta countered, "when were you going to tell me you bonded with Shepard?"

Liara frowned.  "How do you know about that?"

"Miranda here was telling me about your fairytale reunion.  You could sense her presence in the next room.  That's bondmate territory if ever I heard it.  So?"

"Given that you disappeared off the face of the galaxy after the Cerberus coup, and that we bonded just before the final push in London, when and how exactly was I supposed to tell you?"

"Oh, come on, Little Wing, don't pretend you didn't know where I was," Aethyta parried.

“I didn’t,” Liara said quietly, her tone pained.  “I thought you might have gone to Thessia, but by the time I got there… well, there was no hope of finding anyone.”

Aethyta shook her head soberly.  “Shepard told me you were there. You saw Serrice fall?” 

Liara nodded silent agreement.

"Fuck.” Aethyta.  “I’m sorry, kid. So… you bonded with Shepard just before the battle in London...” Aethyta came back to the point, “as in the night before? The day before?  Minutes before?"

"Does it matter?" Hannah thought she detected an edge to Liara's voice in that, borne out by Aethyta raising both hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Woah, now, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm sure you knew what you were doing, it's just..." she eyed Liara carefully, as though weighing up the potential for an explosion.

"Just what?" Liara prompted.

Aethyta took a deep breath.  "You're a _little_ young to be thinking about bonding, and I'm just concerned that maybe you jumped into something deeper than you anticipated because your emotions were running high. Not just for your sake, but for Shepard’s as well."  She reached out to grip her daughter's hand as the younger asari blushed.

"Can it be undone, if they decided it was a mistake?" Hannah asked curiously.

"No," Aethyta replied, her gaze never leaving Liara's face. "Breaking a bond causes brain damage – it can even kill in extreme cases."  Aethyta leaned over the bar to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "That Shepard loves you as much as you love her is apparent to everyone, kid, even if it is all a little too civilized for my taste. All I want to know is that you understand what you've let yourself in for. And that your bondmate understands it too."

Liara nodded slowly.  "We do.  We'd talked about it beforehand, I'd warned her of what it entailed, and we'd agreed we wanted to do it.  The timing was... not ideal, and emotion certainly drove me, but..." she shrugged, looked up at her father, then held out her hand.

Aethyta nodded, grasping Liara's hand firmly.  "Embrace eternity," she muttered.

Hannah watched in fascination as both asari's eyes flooded with inky black. Silence fell, and for about fifteen seconds they remained locked in position, breathing without stress, but otherwise immobile, and then Liara blinked, and her eyes cleared to crystalline blue. Aethyta, similarly restored, nodded soberly as she regarded her child.  "Damn," she breathed, "do you ever have it bad."

Liara smiled.  "I know," she agreed serenely. “And that’s just given me an idea.” She turned to Hannah.  "I have a request to make of you, Hannah."

"OK," Hannah replied a little warily.  "What is it?"

"Would you let me share some of my memories with you?"

Hannah pointed at Aethyta.  "Like that, you mean?  In a… meld?"

Liara nodded earnestly.  "Yes.  You were very kind to me earlier, and your acceptance of my relationship with Rachel is precious to me. You have extended me a rare trust, and I wish to be thought worthy of it.  That will take time, I know, but I would like to share a few moments of my life, show you what your daughter means to me. And it might answer some of your questions more quickly."

Aethyta nodded encouragement, and Hannah took a deep breath.  "OK, then.  Do it."

"That's exactly what Rachel said the first time we did this," Liara recalled with a smile. Stepping closer, she cupped Hannah's face lightly in her hands.  Her fingers were cool and gentle.  "Look into my eyes," the asari said softly, and Hannah focused, peering into the crystalline depths of Liara's unblinking gaze, seeing the first wisps of black start to dance within the blue. "Take slow deep breaths," Liara continued, her voice soft yet commanding. "Imagine a place where you are at peace, Hannah, a place of tranquility and happiness. Relax and remember your joy." Hannah tried to obey, relaxing, remembering her wedding day, feeling a strange pressure at the back of her head. "Can you see it?” Liara asked, and Hannah nodded, fixing her memory on Danny’s adoring smile.  “Good, now… embrace eternity!"

Liara's eyes snapped to sudden jet black. A warm sensation seemed to permeate Hannah's awareness, and for a moment, she had a strange impression of being two people, having two bodies, looking at herself through her own eyes. And then the duality faded, Danny slipped away, and she was transported...

 

_...Shepard smiles at me, a genuine, encouraging grin.  "That's great, Li.  Perfect, in fact."_

_"Li?"_

_"Yeah, um," Shepard looks slightly abashed, "sorry.  Human thing - we have a tendency to shorten names or give nicknames to close friends and associates."_

_"Oh.  So that's why you call Chief Williams Ash, and Officer Vakarian... G?"_

_"Exactly.  If it bothers you, I'll try not to do it." She gives a one-shouldered shrug. "No big deal."_

_I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, but my soul is glowing at the thought of someone considering me enough of a friend to give a nickname to.  Especially Shepard, who is so generous, and brave, and...Goddess, I'm making such a fool of myself, and I need to say something..."I... uh, thank you, Commander.  I don't mind." That doesn’t do it justice. I'm thrilled..._

_... Shepard's arms close around me, and my stricken, grieving soul finds solace in the close warmth of her body, the protective strength of her arms, the clean smell of her freshly laundered sweatshirt, and tang of citrus that I assume is from her bodywash.  I am protected here, secure, sheltered from the terrible truth of my mother's death by my friend, my guardian.  Shepard will keep me safe..._

_..."I want what's between us to flourish..." Shepard's words echo in my tangled thoughts as the Normandy guns her engines, getting under way for the Mu relay.  Alone in my little lab, I cannot get Shepard out of my head, her kind smile, her courage, the trust she so readily places in me. The warm silk of her cheek beneath my lips, her trembling fingers caressing my neck in the aftermath of Virmire, when we grieved for Kaidan together, and the breath-stopping anticipation of our near miss not six hours ago, the moment of complete connection that Joker so unwittingly destroyed. Goddess help me, I think I have fallen in love._

_"Only when we're both ready," she'd said.  I knew from those words that_ she _was ready.  And now I know that I am too.  I will not wait any longer.  I have to tell her how I feel..._

_...Rachel pulls me tenderly against her armoured chest, arms locking about my shoulders as I bury my face in her hair.  "It's all right," she soothes. Two years of heartache are banished by her touch, her intimate tone. My love, lost and found. I want her, I've missed her. Before I realise it I've brushed my lips against hers. Guiltily, I pull back. I want so very desperately for her to reclaim me, but she has now witnessed the full measure of the changes her death wrought in me.  I daren’t expect her to simply accept me, however much my heart desires it. Anguish swamps me, stealing my breath, blurring my vision with tears._ _"It's been two years," I force out.  Goddess, please, she is the only person in this universe that truly matters to me - I must be strong enough to allow her to choose her path, even if that path is not with me. "I don't... We're different people. You have your mission..." She pulls me in, stops my babbling with a kiss, and I collapse into her embrace.  Her kiss is deep, passionate, confident. Loving. Her presence surrounds me, overwhelms me, shatters my doubts.  She wants me, as I am, flawed and changed.  She wants me.  I am hers..._

_... Rachel's lying in bed in the medbay, eyes dull from the analgesic Karin has administered. She frowns as she tries to squeeze my hand but finds her grip too weak to make the gesture effective. "I'm OK, Li," she murmurs. "Don't warp Garrus through the bulkhead. Wasn't his fault."_

_I force a smile; she needs encouragement and support, and I will not burden her with my concern. My fear of losing her is my own problem to deal with.  "I won't.  The fuel refinery had to be secured.  Besides, I'm fairly sure I know who needs to be warped through the bulkhead, and it isn't Garrus."_

_She manages a lopsided grin. "You wouldn't, ahh..." she flinches with a twinge of pain, "hit an invalid now would you?"_

_I lean in close, letting biotic energy wreath my fingers as I place my hand just above her cheek. "Of course not," I whisper into her ear.  "In fact, I promise not to lay a finger on you."_

_Rachel laughs, then winces again.  "Ow, don't make me laugh," she pleads.  I draw back, and she smiles up at me.  "I love you, Li," she offers spontaneously._

_"I love you too," I assure her…_

_...Rachel is sleeping, leaning against me, back pressed against my breasts, head tipped back against my shoulder, my arms wrapped securely around her waist. She's worn out from the day's desperate actions and by the residual pain from Leviathan's brutal invasion of her mind.  The meld and massage have quieted her thoughts enough to permit rest, and I breathe a soft prayer of thanks, grateful to have her safe in my arms, for now. Her body feels warmer, a reassuring contrast to the icy feel of her skin when she stopped breathing on the deck of that damned wreck.  Burying my nose in her hair, I inhale deeply, pulling the beguiling scent of oranges, cinnamon and Rachel into my lungs.  If I could stop time, stop our march towards the brewing confrontation with the Reapers, I would. I could remain here, content, forever..._

The memories flickered and blurred, each imparting a precious moment, each woven through with the shining common thread of Liara's deep love for Rachel.  Hannah shivered, blinking to try and clear her vision, marshal her thoughts as the connection broke.  "Woah," she breathed, and she felt strong hands grip her shoulders.

"Easy.  Take deep breaths," Aethyta's voice instructed from behind her.  "Move slowly, you might be a little dizzy."  Hannah obeyed, sucking in a few deep breaths, unable to take her eyes from Liara's face, from the earnest look of hope the young asari wore.

"Why..." Hannah fought down the disconcerting feeling that her voice was all wrong, "why did you show me that, Liara?" Tears stung her eyes as she gripped the maiden’s hands.  "You - those are _your_ feelings, they're so..."  She took another steadying breath.  "You didn't need to do that, to share such private emotions - I believed you when you told me that you loved Rachel."

Liara squeezed her hands in reply.  "For asari, among friends and family, sharing emotions is commonplace. It creates trust, builds relationships, conveys meaning, without the barrier that words can often create. I cannot lie in my memories, nor distort the truth of them with well-meaning euphemisms.  While I can control what I choose to show you, I cannot manipulate it. I wanted you to see..." Liara blushed, suddenly looking very vulnerable.  "It is what I would have shown my own mother, were she still alive." She composed herself with a deep breath. "Rachel loves you very much - as I said earlier, your good opinion means the world to her.  So perhaps I am simply being a little selfish, but... I want you to think well of me, for her sake, and for my own."

Hannah pulled the asari into a tight hug, moved more than she could express with simple words.  "I think you've made a pretty good start there, kiddo," she offered.  "Thank you for trusting me with your emotions."

"Thank you for accepting them, and me," Liara replied.  "I am honoured to be considered part of your family."

"You're very welcome," Hannah grinned as she released her grip.  "And I’m honoured to be considered part of yours.”  A thought struck her. “So, Aethyta, does this bond thing between the kids make us in-laws?"

Aethyta nodded slowly.  "Yeah, I guess it does.  Well, shit. That's a real damn shame, ain't it?"

Liara twisted round to stare at her father.  "Dad..." she began reprovingly.

"Can it, Little Wing.  This is none of your business," Aethyta cut her off, and she turned to Hannah, an evil smirk tugging the corners of her mouth as she leaned on the bar and beckoned the human closer.  "Like I said, a real damn shame. Babe."

"Oh?"  Hannah arched an eyebrow and mirrored Aethyta's stance, folding her arms on the bar and leaning in close, fighting not to crack a grin and give the whole thing away as she saw the dumbstruck expression on Liara's face and Lawson jamming her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her laughter. She closed the gap till her forehead was practically touching the matriarch's.  "Why's that? Sweetheart?" she drawled.

Aethyta blew her a kiss.  "Because, with all this excitement going on around here today, would you believe... I forgot to clean the bar."

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this little side-show! :o)


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